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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 2 years

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I Wish It Was Me

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Febuwhump Prompt - Forced to Watch

Prompt - ‘Believe me, if I could take your place I would do it without a second thought.’

The basement was dark and cold, every bone in your body ached and blood poured out of open wounds, you could feel some slip down your face from where your head had been smashed against the floor. You were certain your leg was broken, the hammer connecting with it more times than you could count as you sobbed and screamed, your throat sore after hours of screaming.

The unsub cackled from somewhere above you as he let his boots connect with your ribs again and again. You knew they were broken too, could feel the pain as you breathed in, a rib poking into something it shouldn’t as you continued to cry out in pain.

You knew Spencer was in the room somewhere but you refused to look at him, you couldn’t look at him. You knew it would feel worse if you looked at him, your pain would be mirrored on his face and you couldn’t…you just couldn’t.

It should have been a simple visit to question somebody who may have come into contact with the unsub and instead you’d stumbled across the unsub himself, a man neither you nor your team has suspected.

The man, a man in his mid thirties, had been taking couples, snatching two people easily in broad daylight, keeping them for a day and dumping the bodies at night in public places. The women were always the worst, naked and tortured whilst the man remained fully clothed and killed by a single gunshot wound to the head.

You knew the men had been forced to watch whatever torture the unsub inflicted on the women but living through it yourself was worse than whatever you had imagined at the first crime scene.

Could they not look at their partners too or did they seek their gaze, seek comfort and false hope from it?

You couldn’t look at Spencer, you couldn’t watch as he watched you, watch as his emotions played out clearly on his face as you continued to take the full force of the man’s rage. Spencer had tried to direct the man’s anger and attention to him, desperately had tried to be the one getting tortured but you’d shook your head at him because, despite the absolute pain and agony you were in, Spencer had been through too damn much and you were not letting him get tortured for you.

God, where the hell was Hotch?

You and Spencer had been gone for what felt like hours, surely somebody must have realised you were gone by now, surely somebody must have pieced together who the unsub was. Yet you heard no movement in the house, no sirens from outside, nothing but the sounds of your own screams and cries as the unsub brought a knife up to your skin and dug it in before dragging it to create a deep wound that blood freely poured from.

“Stop!” Spencer yelled and you could hear his cries, the desperation in his voice. You could hear the clatter of his handcuffs against the metal post he was tied to, as he tried to free himself without success. “Please, just stop! Leave her alone!”

Spencer’s begs and pleads seemed to do nothing to deter the unsub, if anything it seemed to please him, seemed to make him slice harder, kick harder and each time he did you let out more and more cries, choking as you struggled for breath, desperately praying that somebody would hurry up and figure it out.

Some of the best profilers in the damn country and they can’t piece this together.

You don’t know how long the next round of kicks and slices went on for but eventually the lightheadedness from the blood loss became too much and you let your eyes fall closed, the last thing you heard was Spencer’s desperate cries for you to wake up.

The annoying sound of a steady heart monitor was the first thing you heard when you finally became conscious again, keeping your eyes closed, not quite ready to face the real world again just yet.

“-uld have taken your place. Never wanted you to have to go through that, I always wanted to keep you safe and I couldn’t do anything, Y/N, I tried to but I couldn’t, I couldn’t…” The voice trailed off with a sob and you felt tears against your hand.

Spencer was here.

Relief flooded your system, if Spencer was here then he didn’t have his own hospital room and that meant he was safe, it meant that somebody had finally pieced together where you were and it meant you were safe.

“Y/N.” Spencer said softly, sitting up and quickly wiping the tears from his face before he brushed away the single tear that made its way down yours. “You’re ok, you’re safe.” He assured you and you pulled him closer until he was sitting next to you, his arm gently laying across your shoulder and your head resting against his chest.

“What happened?” You asked, voice sore and hoarse from screaming causing Spencer to wince and grab something from the table before a straw was held in front of your lips.

You smiled gratefully up at him before finishing the glass in just a few sips, relaxing even more as your throat felt slightly better with the cold water.

“The unsub left two bodies before we went to see him,” Spencer told you, his hand tracing random shapes against your skin as he spoke softly, “It’s why it took them so long to realise we hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t long after you passed out that they came.”

“You okay?” You asked him, keeping your voice as quiet as possible so that it didn’t burn your throat.

“Am I-” Spencer began but cut himself off with a huff of disbelief, “You were just tortured and you’re asking me if I’m ok?” He couldn’t help but smile as you nodded against him, turning your head slightly to press a kiss against his shirt. “I’m okay, Y/N/N.”

“Good.” You muttered, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.” Spencer whispered against your hair just as you were drifting off and you knew he probably thought you had already fallen asleep but you dragged your eyes open and pulled back from him so you could look up and meet his gaze.

“None of this is your fault, trust me I know if you could, you would have taken every single punch, kick and slice.” You told him, tone soft but leaving no wrong for arguments but Spencer still did so.

“I just watched-” He began but you cut him off.

“No, you didn’t.” You told him, shaking your head as you did, “You were restrained and that man doesn’t target other men, he got off on them being powerless, trust me there was nothing you could have done.”

“I wish it was me.” He whispered the confession but you already knew that, you knew if he had a choice everytime something bad happened, you just knew he’d have it inflicted upon himself before he let it happen to you.

“I’m glad it wasn’t.” You whispered back before you leaned up, meeting his lips for a soft kiss, feeling Spencer hesitate for only half a second before he kissed back, cupping your cheek softly, weary of the line of stitches that went from the top of your forehead down to your temple, stopping just above your cheekbone.

“I’m glad it wasn’t,” You whispered again, leaning back in to brush your lips against his one more time, watching as Spencer smiled down at you and nodded.

“You should get some rest.” He murmured, pulling away and positioning you back against his chest as he brushed his hand against your arm using the hand around your shoulder.

“I love you, Spenc.” You told him, voice soft and drowsy as you let your eyes fall shut once more, already half asleep and missing the smile that spread against Spencer’s face, completely in love with you.

“I love you too,” He said softly, placing a lingering kiss on your head, “so much.”

_________

Spencer Reid Taglist (Link in bio to add yourself!) -

@levisbloodcut, @mystic-writings, @siriuslyfearless, @silverose365, @divanca2006, @sia2raw, @chaoticevilbakugo, @kodiakwhiskey, @girloncorneliastreet, @averyhotchner, @grccnaway, @frickin-bats, @fanf1ctionwrit1n, @ilovespencerreidmarryme, @classyunknownlover, @chickensrule, @memories-from-a-nerd, @onlyssca,, @black-rose-29, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @j-cat, @mrs-scottmccall, @filmsbyblair, @reidsbookclub, @nomajdetective, @canadailluminate, @asherhunterx, @carmellasworld, @battinsonn, @jasontoddthezombie, @instabull, @honkroselyn, @buckysnumberonegirl, @parkershoco, @father-violet, @mystic-writings, @mmaiamore, @varshhyy, @urbestgrrl, @randomwriter1021, @lazysheepperfection, @lucyysthings, @morganaah, @taylordidsomthingbad, @kaitieskidmore1, @aylauwuuniverse, @lucyysthings,@writeroutoftime, @loki-laufeysons-wife, @srhxpci, (sorry if you've been tagged in this like four times, tumblrs bugging for me!)

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thesleepy1 · 2 years

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Witcher's Hold

A/N: @writingmysanity wanted to see a fic where Eskel saves reader from torture. I’m going to try my hand at writing action because if I don’t practice, I won’t improve. Sorry that its a little on a short side. I’m not sure how graphic I will end but being so proceed at your own caution.

Pairings: Eskel x Reader

Summary: Eskel comes to your recuse after you’re taken by some very misguided individuals. You’re ready to forgive and forget as long as you can return to Eskel in one piece. Eskel has different ideas.

Word count: 657

Warnings: violence, injury, blood,

Eskel’s sword was weighed down as it sliced through a man’s throat. The man’s blood splattered across Eskel’s face but he did not stop to wipe it off. He stepped over the drowning mercenary and advanced on his partner. The woman was heavyset and strong, her muscles straining against her tunic. She fought close combat with brass around her knuckles.

She swung with her left fists which made contact with Eskel’s side and pushed him back. The witcher stumbled on his feet, the smell of iron and fear filling his nose. He knew it was not just his own. His very skin refused to yield to her without a fight. Her cry ripped through the air when she tore muscles in her hands, the brass snagged in her bones. She growled low and pounced onto Eskel in the dim room.

The warrior did not have the enhanced sense that Eskel did. She did not carry a weapon nor had the anger of having lost a loved one. Sidestepping at the last possible moment, Eskel ran his silver sword through her abdomen. The metal ripped through the viscera, his purposely dull edge dragging intestines outside of her skin. She had made to curse Eskel’s name but died before she hit the floor.

Eskel turned, spleen and liver speared through his sword. He made eye contact with the final individual who unlike the rest coward before him. “Please, witcher. I beg of you,” the pathetic man whined with his hands folded in prayer. “Spare me. I had no part to play in this. I-I was only tasked to feed your mate. That’s all. I did not lay a hand on them.” Eskel did not need to be listening to the man’s heartbeat to know he was lying through his teeth.

Eskel swung his sword in an overreaching arch and brought it down on the man’s worshiping head. He did not feel an ounce of regret or sin for his actions. One thing mattered to him and that was bringing you home.

“Darling,” Eskel called into the darkened dungeons. “Can you hear me, darling?” His heavy footsteps echoed louder through the stone hallways than the screams of the people he had killed. Every step seemed to be both a motion closer to you and further. “Please make some sort of sound. I can’t hear you.”

Eskel could hear nothing but the slow beat of his heart and the flicker of flames on the wall. Then, a single rustle of fabric drifted to his ear and everything after that was a blur. Eskel ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He pulled metal bars apart with his bare hands to get to you. The mere sight of you stole both his breath away. You had laid in the center of a bare cell in nothing but smocks, thin as the very bars Eskel snapped in two.

The large witcher spoke your name in a whisper. He bent down to gather you within his arms. You were lighter pressed to his chest than Lil’ Bleater. The fact made a sob form at the base of his throat. Eskel cried and he cried hard. “I'm so sorry I allowed this to happen. Forgive, oh please forgive me.”

“I’ll never let you out of my sight again,” he cried into the top of your head. Your skin was cold to the touch. Not even his witcher’s heat did much to warm you.

“Eskel?”

“Yes, darling?” Eskel drew a sign you could not make out in the air. An explosion made your sensitive ears ring. Debris flew back towards you but Eskel quickly threw up another sign before anything could dare touch your skin. “What do you need? Anything you want, you only need to ask.”

“It’s so cold,” you shivered until your body tensed so much you felt paralyzed, “Could you please hold me?”

“I swear I will never let go again.”

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thirstyforcharacters · 3 years

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Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash

WC: 1.9 k

For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.

When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.

You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?

When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.

Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.

Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”

It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.

On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.

Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.

You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.

Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.

Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.

You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.

“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”

You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”

You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.

“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”

He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”

You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.

He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.

“Oh, thank you!” you answered.

He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.

“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.

His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”

He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”

His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”

“Maybe,” you replied.

He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name and he smiled again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”

You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”

He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”

“Definitely not.”

The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.

As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.

“How can I get in contact with you after this?”

“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.

“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #Bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes fic #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader fluff #soulmate au

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years

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Humans are Weird: Cyber Warfare

The shift back to real space was never something one became used to. It was a feeling as if the bones in your very body were being ripped from your screaming flesh while you remained fully aware of every nerve and pain cluster in your body as it screamed out in mind numbing agony.

High Marshal Volgrim had performed the process so many times he had stopped counting as he deemed it hardly worth his time and effort; but what he did remember was the pain of each transition. That, was something he could not easily forget nor repress.

“Navigation, give me location and baring.”

“Coms, I want our command beacon broadcasting for every ship to hone in on as they exit the jump.”

“Weapons, I want the guns unlocked from storage and primed within the next forty seconds”

“Engineering, give me a report on ship wide systems and then raise shields to maximum if permissible.”

“Radar, give me contacts a full sweep of the surrounding space.”

Though the High Marshall was still rubbing his closed eyes to ease the pain his orders were crisp and direct. He knew his crew would need a moment as well to recover but a moment was all he could spare them.

“Star charts coming in now; we’re at the edge of the Hyperion System.”

“Readings confirmation codes from the Shveron, Mulbo, Tapis Dawn, and Kalbrum fleets now emerging alongside us now.”

“Gunnery teams report arc cannons are primed and ready to fire. Javelin batteries are still connecting coolant pipes now. ETA 60 seconds till ready to fire.”

“Engineering reports all systems are showing positive. Shields raised at full power, no fluctuations.”

Volgrim nodded with every reply as if checking off a list in his head. The rhythm of the checking was interrupted by the noticeable lack of reply from the officer radar station.

“Radar, report.”

The commotion on the bridge of his flagship would have deafened lesser captains but to Volgrim he had become so used to it he could even hear a pin drop over the murmur and be able to point which station it had fallen from. So when the radar officer failed to reply once again volgrim opened his eyes and looked directly at the officer.

“Officer Murbak,” he began with his voice rising, “re-”.

Officer Murbak held up a hand to the High Marshall and continued observing his display.

Having trained each of his bridge crew himself, Volgrim knew full well that one of his men would not act in such a disrespectful manner unless it was something urgent.

Without saying a word Volgrim rose from his command throne and slithered over to the Murbak’s station, his thousand tiny feet across his segmented body pattering against the metal body sounding like rain atop a roof. He leaned over Murbak and took note of the display console.

“What do you see lad?”

Murbak’s dozen arms were twisting and adjusting a handful of knobs on the console as the image in the display shifted over and over.

“Shortly after we came out of our jump we detected several enemy markers.” Murbak replied as he continued to adjust the knobs.

Volgrim looked over the display. “The radar shows nothing there lad.”

At this Murbak broke his gaze at the display and turned his worried eyes at his high marshal. “I know what I saw sir. They’re out there.”

Turning his gaze to the main view port Volgrim took stock of what lay before them.

The fleet had arrived at the very edge of the Hyperion system, home to a newly founded human colony that had imprisoned traders of Volgrim’s people, known as Vukori, after a dispute at the space port turned violent. Naturally the Vukori government had seen this act as a direct act of aggression and dispatched the High Marshall with several fleets to punish the wayward humans.

The Hyperion system was surrounded by a thick nebula of gases that were now playing havoc with the sensor equipment. Volgrim trained his eyes on the swirling masses of green and orange clouds as they danced in space.

As the clouds drifted apart for a moment Volgrim’s eyes shot open as he saw for the briefest of moments the reflection of a metallic object in the gas.

“All hands to battle stations!” Volgrim cried out as he returned to his command throne.

He had no need for his radar officer to give him a confirmation, his concerns had been vindicated. The humans had hidden their fleet inside the nebula to hide it from sensor readings and no doubt had planned to ambush the Vukori fleets as they entered.

“Assemble the fleets into a wedge formation. I don’t want us being picked apart one by one.”

Though he had only seen one ship in the clouds he was sure more were hiding. With his fleets dispersed from their jump exit they could easily be picked apart one by one, but by concentrating them they would be able to fully bring their might to bear.

As if sensing their plan had been discovered the first of the human ships began emerging from the nebula. Their hulls were of a steel grey that reflected the green and oranges of the clouds around them like a patchwork of modern art and their frames resembled sea faring vessels of their primitive years without the sails of fabric and masts.

“Give me a count Mr. Murbak.” Volgrim called out as he watched each new enemy vessel pull forward.

“I count five battleship class, 7 cruiser class, and fourteen destroyers.”

“Keep an eye on that nebula Mr. Murbk, there could be more hiding in there.” “Aye, aye!”

Volgrim cradled his head between his arms and pondered the situation. The human fleet was roughly half their total fleet size but also was at the disadvantage of lacking heavy ships compared to the Vukori fleet. Yet Volgrim was well aware that humans had an annoying habit for implementing unconventional tactics when outnumbered that often saw them win the day or at the very least inflict serious casualties against their foe. This was the first step of the war with the humans and Volgrim was not sure if he could replace any losses he sustained so early on in the campaign.

“Mr. Huckval,” Volgrim called to the communications officer, “ order all ships to keep their distance from the human vessels and turn their scanners to maximum range. I want them reading everything within a 300km distance from us.” He leaned over and gave a hard gaze at Huckval. “If so much as a asteroid the size of a finger floats this way I want to know of it.”

Huckval relayed the high marshalls orders fleet wide as the Vukori fleets finished arranging themselves into formation.

“High Marshall, we are receiving a communication.”

“From which fleet?”

Huckval shook his head. “It’s not from one of ours but from the human fleet.”

“Interesting. Put them through, fleet wide.”

After a brief moment a picture appeared on the view port and for the first time Volgrim saw his enemy; or so he thought.

The image on the screen was constantly shifting and only ever holding image steady for a few moments before shifting again into a blizzard of static. When the image was holding steady Volgrim could barely make out the image of a human figure in a deep blue uniform with short cropped hair.

“Mr. Huckval, what is the meaning of this?”

The comms officer looked embarrassed and hurried back to his station just as the human figure began to speak.

“THIS IS ADMIRAL PYRE OF THE 3RD FLEET.” The voice was drowning and at such volume that it hurt the ears of everyone on the command deck.

“Cease your shouting human!” cried Volgrim as he covered his ears in pain.

Admiral Pyre looked confused when the image steady and looked off screen as if talking to someone.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” The admiral continued. “ I AM TALKING NORMALLY.”

Volgrim brought his hands down hard on the arms of his command throne. “You are shouting at the top of your tiny lungs!”

Pyre looked off screen once again before turning back. “THERE MUST BE A PROBLEM WITH THE TRANSMISSION BEING SO CLOSE TO THE NEBULA.” Pyre said, taking a apologetic look. “I AM TERRIBLY SORRY FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE CAUSED.”

Volgrim turned to Huckval and motioned to end the transmission with a wave of his hand. The picture on the view port was instantly cut and replaced again by the view of open space and the human fleet.

The crew were slowly recovering from the audio assault on their ears. Volgrim was turning to Huckval when the engineering officers voice rose up in alarm.

“High Marshall! We are reading arc cannons charging up!”

Volgrim spun around. “I gave no such order!” he barked. “Whose ship is daring to defy me?!”

The engineering officer looked scared at his commanders anger but continued his report. “Shveron and Mulbo fleets are showing increasing energy readings.”

Volgrim was confused at this. Both fleets were commanded by commanders he had served with on numerous campaigns and neither had ever shown such defiance before.

“Confirm readings and contact-”

The engineering officer cut him off. “We are now reading energy spikes from the Tapis Dawn and Kalbrum fleets as well!”

“Something is wrong.”

Volgrim put his thoughts to words as the new report came in. “Mr. Huckval, get me the commanders of all fleets on the line this instant. We need to find out what the gulgut is going on!”

Huckval turned to his console and began dialing in when suddenly a spark of energy discharged from his station. Huckval was able to jump back in the nick of time but the energy discharge fried the console entirely.

“Repair crew to the bridge!” Huckval called out.

Things were spinning out of control one after another and all Volgrim could do was watch.

All of a sudden a red warning lights began flashing across the bridge and the radar officer pushed people aside to get to Volgrim.

“Sir! Three ships of fleet Shveron just exploded!”

“WHAT?!”

Hammering in keys into his command throne Volgrim brought up the display of his fleet and indeed saw that three ships were gone.

Volgrim roared and grabbed Murbak by the neck and hoisted him into the air.

“Why wasn’t I told the enemy started firing on us!?”

Murbak was shaking and clawing at his neck.

“The humans didn’t fire! They didn’t fire!!”

Four more ship icons flared red and vanished from the screen before Volgrim’s eyes. “Status report, now!”

Murbak scrambled back to his console and keyed in several commands.

“The ships were destroyed from internal explosions, not enemy weapons fire.”

“Explain!” The confusion was only adding to his continued frustration as Murbak continued reading the scrolling information.

“From the readings it looks like their arc cannons detonated from a build up of ene-”

“FLEET WIDE BROADCAST!” Volgrim shouts in alarm realizing the danger they were now in. “DISCONNECT POWER SUPPLIES TO ARC CANNONS!”

“Communications are still fired sir, we can’t send a message out.” Huckval called as the repair team arrived and began quickly disassembling the burnt out communications console.

Volgrim watched as more and more ships in his fleet began blinking out as their arc cannons reached critical mass and detonated.

Another sound of alarms began ringing out and to his mounting horror Volgrim knew instantly what they were. He turned to his gunnery officer to see him sprinting out of the bridge.

“Where are you going?!” Volgrim shouted over the blaring alarms.

“I have to disconnect the cannons or we’re all dead!” the officer shouted over his shoulder as he scuttled as fast as he could out of the bridge to the nearest access hatch and descended to the gunnery decks.

The flagship was beginning to shudder as the mounting energy in the cannons became increasingly unstable. The energy was meant to be fired outwards in an arc when at critical mass and trigger immense damage to enemy ships. But without firing coordinates the weapons muzzles had remained shut as more and more energy was being poured into each cannon.

Consoles now across the bridge were sparking and exploding as the crew darted back and forth all the while Volgrim sat upon his throne.

He knew his gunnery officer would never make it to the gunnery deck in time and so resigned himself to his final moments.

With vengeful eyes he gazed out at the human armada before him and cursed them with his final breath just as the arc cannons exploded and ripped his ship in two.

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“Confirm, enemy flagship is down.”

The human radar officer confirmed the readings once more and nodded. “Half the enemy fleet has been destroyed. The remaining portions appear on the verge of detonation or attempting to flee out of system.”

“Permission to fire?” the gunnery officer inquired, eager to get the final blow in.

Admiral Pyre shook his head, a faint grin crossing his face. “Save the ammunition for another day.”

Pyre looked away from the view port and stepped over to a special portion of his bridge. The area was filled with consoles and screens reading off seemingly endless streams of data that the staff present monitored and altered as needed.

He stepped behind one officer who promptly turned and saluted smartly. He returned the salute crisply. “At ease.”

The officer lowered her arm and motioned for her staff to disperse. “I would say your program was a success.”

To Pyre’s surprise he saw her shake her head. “Hardly. We were only able to implement it through the transmission because of the audio distraction and even then it took nearly twenty five seconds to spread fleet wide. We were lucky that they did not employ any tactical ai programs otherwise they would have detected the cyber spike and contained it.”

She handed him a large folder. “This is a list of all the features we can improve upon and requisitions for better equipment for future engagements.”

He took it and skimmed through a few of the front pages before closing it and tucking it under his shoulder. “I shall give it a more detailed inspection later tonight but rest assured you will be provided with everything you need.”

She looked puzzled at this. “But you haven’t even read what I’ve asked for.”

Pyre nodded and smiled. “True, but I have already seen what you can deliver.” He motioned her to the view screen as dozens of enemy ships exploded in the distance. Bright blue arcs of energy shooting out and ripping metal hulls apart like paper as the remaining ships made futile attempts to jump away.

“Do you have any idea how many lives of my sailors you saved today?”

Pyre gazed out at the destruction and kept his smile. “Because of you and your teams work you have delivered a critical blow to our enemies without endangering a single one of them.”

He turned to her and fixed her with a serious stare. “Not. A. Single. One.” He said the words slowly to let that sink in. “They will not only go on to serve the navy in future battles and wars, but also be able to one day go home to their loving families because of your hard work; and I think that is worth more than a few million dollars of computers and cable.”

She coughed and tapped her leg nervously.

“It will, uh, be roughly a billion dollars in computers, and, ugh, cables; sir.”

Pyre looked at her, then back at the destruction she had wrought.

“I’ll see if we can cancel a battleship production to divert the needed funds once we return to port.”

Before she could reply Pyre turned and left the bridge to report the victory they had achieved back to the homeworld leaving the human fleet to watch the destruction of their enemies unfold from the stroke of a few keys.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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seateajessi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

Wc: 1.8k

@chokemeanakin request, my very first fanfic hope you like it <3

There it was this familiar feeling of fear, anger, and frustration creeping into my mind consuming my very soul and leave my body frozen.

I failed.

I needed a moment to realize what just happened, a moment I missed to dodge the shot that split my lightsaber in half.

Not that It was of great use to me, now that I was lying on a destroyed federation tank, probably deadly injured and without any support that could turn things for the better.

The stars dancing over me confirmed my worries and slowly a jabbing pain kept me from breathing in more of the burnt air that wavered over the battlefield.

That was it.

That was the end.

The end of a traitor, of someone who left her troops in the middle of a crucial fight only to hunt down a phantom, a specter. There were clear orders to be followed, there was a code that showed a Jedi how to lead, how to live, and most importantly how to survive.

Especially the last part seemed more reasonable to me, as I was dying on that piece of metal junk.

My vision began to blur and the sounds of the battle surrounding me became numbed.

I desperately tried to reach my communicator and I believe more color left my face when I felt the warm blood on my finger.

Tears formed in my eyes as I started to realize what I had done, in what position I had brought not only my troops but the whole galaxy, the republic ... and General Skywalker.

I winced at the thought of Ani, we were friends since we first met as younglings at the temple.

The mission we were sent to was most likely one of the most significant, it held the potential to capture General Grievous and end that monster once and for all. After a defeat of General Grievous and his droids, the Jedi council and chancellor Palpatine were informed by republic supporters that Grievous fled to the Outer Rim.

Palpatine made it clear that two of the most powerful Jedi should execute this mission to ensure certain success. The council was as confused as I was when the chancellor recommended me for this mission, of course, I was a Jedi knight but I was neither a master nor the chosen one, on the contrary, I had never felt strongly connected to the force or was especially skilled with the lightsaber. If it wasn't for the severity of the situation and the lack of available Jedi, the council would have never even considered sending me on this mission.

I closed my eyes and gasped at the pain that slowly numbed my body and my consciousness.

In the Carlac system, we finally tracked a sign, in hindsight obviously way too easy and after we landed on Carlac it didn´t take long and an army had surrounded us. Any communication was blocked and Anakin and I were separated right at the beginning of the battle.

The snow-covered planet made it difficult to keep an overview, heavy blizzards made it nearly impossible to see more than two feet in front of you.

Tiny sobs escaped me when I thought of him being out there alone facing this gigantic army of battle droids. In the Jedi order was no personal attachment allowed and that was the hardest price to pay in order of being a Jedi. He had to be dead by now, yet I didn´t feel any change in the force.

The tears burned in my eyes, realizing that everyone could be dead by now and my weak connection to the force could easily hide it from me.

My thoughts became disorientated and the aching pain had now reached every limb and bone in my body.

My eyelids became heavier and it started to snow again, flakes nearly as big as my hand, they really looked beautiful combined with the fading sunlight.

Something felt so familiar with that picture and for a moment it soothed my pain sending me into something between sleep and unconsciousness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The nightmare that haunted me was the same as I dreamt it almost every night for as long as I could remember.

Usually, I was wandering through a cave until I would spot daylight and hope to escape this hell only to stop before a dead end every single time. A horrifying scream fills the cave, echoes, and becomes louder and louder until I´d crouch on the ground. Desperation and fear would paralyze me until the cave would begin to crumble and collapse burying me.

This time was no different and with a loud gasp I opened my eyes, adjusting to the harsh mechanical lights that were directed on me.

I couldn´t make anything out in the glaring light, apart from the metallic room that surrounded me, and the fact that I was levitating in the middle of this room, held in some sort of slowly spinning electrical captivation.

It was a wonder that I survived the shooting before but there was no way I would live long enough to...my train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door.

Battle droids of course and behind them a horrendous creature, half a robot and half Kaleesh.

"General Grievous", I stated, trying to sound as unaffected as possible.

His pestering laugh filled the room as he eyed me carefully.

"I´m a Jedi", my voice sounded horrible, an embarrassing mixture between voice cracks and whispering. Why was I even talking to him, I silently cursed myself.

"Jedi scum for sure, but what´s your name little Jedi?"

"Emerald", I answered slowly starting to feel the pain coming back.

"Is this even a name?", the droid next to Grievous chattered, "Never is that a name.", he continued clearly sure of himself, "We found her on the top of a tank, and her lightsaber was broken. I have it right here. Look at it yourself." he proudly held my lightsaber in front of Grievous face.

"What am I supposed to do with it you stupid droid?", the Kaleesh snarled. "You´re soon will look like that saber, Jedi scum. Droids, guard her." with that he stamped out, leaving me with that awful sound of "Rodger, Rodger" echoing through the room.

The thought of Anakin and the clones haunted me, there was no way I would give them up so easily.

This was my chance, a new sparkle of hope gave me life, the moment a somewhat brilliant idea came to my mind.

With my most suffering expression, which I didn't even need to fake that much I wailed "Oh, no. I´m gonna die, I can feel it. If I die now, Grievous can´t kill me. How are you gonna explain to him that you let me die when you were instructed to guard me." I sighed dramatically and slowly closed my eyes.

"Is she dead?", "Hey you, Emerald Jedi.", "I think she is dead", "We need to check, I was just promoted." the discussion continued until I roughly landed on the ground, hearing the two battle droids approaching to check on my health.

I quietly groaned at the aching pain that definitely originated from the left side of my body.

I felt the cold metal hand on my throat, clumsily checking if I was still alive. "I think she is...dead?!"

I calmed myself collecting everything that's left of my strength and grabbed the droid and ripped his head off. "Whaaat the", the other droid screamed in shock, still compensating why I was still breathing, which made it easier to grab his blaster and shoot it.

I gasped again, this time out of physical exertion, this little fight had brought me near unconsciousness again.

Struggling to set one foot before another I reached the door and opened it, trying to be as quiet as possible while sneaking out of the metallic hellhole.

There were only a few other droids, the base definitely didn´t seem heavily guarded, which was somehow strange.

"Grievous, you know that it is of utmost importance that the Jedi girl...", I froze and slowly approached the corner the voices were coming from. "Skywalker has to walk into our trap..." My heart made a little jump when I realized that Anakin probably wasn´t dead. "...Sidious ordered that she is only to be killed when Skywalker watches." I frowned and carefully retreated. The pain became more unbearable by the second and I still needed to find a way out of here.

Still, I couldn´t keep my mind from start rattling about what I just witnessed.

What in the force's name did they mean by setting a trap for Anakin. I wasn´t sure who the other one was, but I was definitely planning on figuring that out.

I needed to get to our ship and contact the fleet, call for help and inform the Jedi council about this.

I looked for something that would keep me alive and my luck had turned at least that's what I thought the moment I spotted a little something above me.

It seemed like there was some sort of container that had a medical sign-on. My shoulder made a terrible sound as I tried to reach for the switch to open it.

The pain that shot through my whole body caused me to abruptly slump down to the hard metal ground.

Before I could hit the ground hard, I was caught by a pair of strong arms that seemed familiar to me.

Could this be... "Ani?", I croaked and turned around, tears once again forming in my eyes as I saw his eyes full of concern and his hurt expression.

"You promised me you weren´t going to do anything reckless", he whispered and tried to sound taunting but his voice broke when he turned me a bit and saw my side.

I tried to form a laugh that sounded more like Grievous coughing, due to the amount of blood that came with it.

"Don´t worry it´s gonna be fine. Help is on its way, we-we contacted the fleet.",

My hand clutched for his that tried desperately to soothe my pain somehow.

"Ani, please hold me", I whimpered holding on to him even stronger. I couldn't read the expression that crept on his face but it scared me.

"They are gonna pay for this, every single one of them." he hissed and my stomach turned.

"Just look at me, Ani, please. It´s not that bad.", I whispered caressing his cheek and tried to smile. His expression softens and he carefully picked me up. "You´re so cold, Ems." I huffed and grabbed his hand pressing it against me, placing a soft kiss on his palm. A sad smile graced his face while he covered me with his robe. "See, I´m here, don´t worry.", he placed in return a kiss on my head.

"Ani, I´m scared." I whispered and I don´t know what hurt more the stabbing pain in my side or how his eyes became watery.

I ran my hand softly over his chest and buried myself into his strong arms. I barely felt the pain nor the burning sensation that had caused his touch.

And once again I drifted into sleep, only this time I felt as safe and warm as I never had before.

#anakin fic #sw anakin #star wars fanfiction #star wars #anakin fluff #anakin x reader #anakin x fem reader #original female character #fluff #hurt #angst

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subukunojess · 4 years

Text

Courage

AO3 Link

Bad Things Happen Bingo @badthingshappenbingo Trope/Prompt: Touch Starved Fandom: Courage the Cowardly Dog Main Character: Courage Triggers: Slight mentions of Animal Abuse/mistreatment Word Count: 1,487

My next entry for the angst bingo I signed up for years ago. Hopefully it'll help me with my writing and get me to practice more. When I searched for Touch Starved, it took me a while until I realized that the only character I could think of that could fit that category would be a character from my childhood, Courage the Cowardly Dog. I remembered how the episode "Remembrance of Courage Past" moved me and I wanted to write a short but sweet one shot of that memory in Courage's point of view. I have not written for Courage before and I found it challenging to keep with the prompt while also keeping in character. Hopefully this is okay. Story under the cut:

What did he do?

What did he do?!

The little pink dog scrambled out of the dumpster he was dropped into, his mind and heart racing as he tried to calm down. He found himself in a city alleyway surrounded by brick walls and trash cans. As he stood up in worry, he suddenly froze as he heard a countdown blaring in his mind and the sound of something big opening nearby. He turned his head to the direction of the sound, only to gasp as the roof of a building opened up and a rocket started blasting off into the sky.

Now the puppy remembered.

He was at the Vet's office with his parents after getting his head stuck in a metal fence while playing catch. Everything was normal at first; the veterinarian got his head unstuck and gave him a lollipop, then went to talk to his parents. The puppy, although scared, assumed that the man was going to ask questions about him and give advice before he and his family left for home. That seemed like a normal thing to do when talking to a doctor.

Until he heard his parents scream.

The world came to a complete stop when the little dog turned and stared as his parents dangled inside a large net with the vet carrying them behind his back to another room. What was happening? This was supposed to be a veterinarian. A doctor. Someone you trust with your health. How could a person like that kidnap his parents?

He had no time to think. He ran after the human, determined to save his parents no matter what. He went through several doors until he snuck into an office where the veterinarian was taking his family to an actual giant rocket on the other side of a window. The puppy remembered watching rockets on television screens. He had seen scary films about aliens and news reports about people flying to the moon. This man was sending his parents to outer space? Not if the puppy could do anything about it.

He saw the man throw the two dogs into the rocket, shut the door, then walked back to a control panel when the countdown began. 60. 59. 58...

Quickly, the pink canine rushed towards the rocket and jumped towards the door where he could see his parents through a little window, scared as they were calling for help and looking for a way out. He saw their big worried eyes making contact with his and his heart broke. He tried opening the door. He really did. But there was nor knob or key.

"Hey, what are you doing there?!" The veterinarian boomed as he entered the room and loomed over the pup. The puppy screamed in terror and ran away in circles, trying desperately to avoid the large intimidating from catching him and throwing him into the rocket as well or something worse. He noticed red arrows pointing to a metal drawer, so he ran and clambered into it, sliding down a chute just as ten gangling fingers almost grabbed him by the waist.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

That was how the pink puppy found himself surrounded by trash as he waved goodbye to his family from beyond the clouds with tears welling up in his eyelids until they trickled out to the rough pavement.

This wasn't a bad dream he could wake up from. This was a living nightmare.

This was his punishment for getting into trouble. For not being brave enough. For choosing to survive rather than help his parents or join them so they could still be a family. For not knowing what to do at a time like this. Before, his parents always forgiven him whenever he had made a mistake or got too scared. They would kiss him if he hurt himself and give him big hugs. They would encourage him to do tasks by himself, congratulating him when he did them and reassuring him when he didn't. His father would scratch him behind his ears. His mother would curl up around him with her body when he had a nightmare. His parents always knew what to do. And now they were gone.

The pink dog didn't know how long he was in the alleyway. Minutes? Hours? Days?

He wanted someone to scoop him up in their arms, hold him close, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But who could he trust? Anyone could be a monster willing to hurt him. To turn on him and do who knew what. He sat huddled by trash cans as he trembled, squirming around and hugging himself to quell his craving for contact. No family. No home. Cold. Hungry. Guilty.

The puppy wailed at the top of his lungs, almost hoping that his sobs would be loud enough to travel to outer space so that his parents would hear him. For anyone to hear him.

And someone did.

"Oh my! What are you doing out here all alone?" A mature feminine voice called out, dripping with concern and an accent. The young dog glanced to see a large woman walking towards him. She had long brown hair and circular glasses on as well as dark boots and a large dark green coat that reached her ankles. He whimpered, trembling as the woman got closer to him. A part of him didn't want to stay. For all he knew, the human would lead him to a secret lair or something. He couldn't trust strangers. And yet, a part of him sensed that the woman was not evil or scary. A part of him wanted comfort no matter the danger. So when the woman loomed over him, he simply stared at her and raised his paws to be scooped up.

Warm plush hands soft as wool held his sides and lifted him into the air. If he weren't so weak and wary, he would have snuggled into her arms or lean closer to her touch. But he couldn't. Any moment now, she would see how pathetic he was and drop him. He stared at her and waited with trembling wide eyes and dried tears.

Instead of a scowl, a tight grip to make his bones pop, or his face smacked against a brick wall, he was met with a soft grin as the woman gasped, "What courage you have!"

Courage? This woman must be mistaken. There was nothing courageous about him. Period. He ran away when his family needed him most. He cried and ran away from anything nearly everyday of his life. 'Coward' was the more appropriate word to describe him.

And yet, she seemed like an honest woman. Her face looked round and gentle like the fluffiest pillow in the world. Her hair seemed like a mix of chocolate and cotton candy you'd find at a county fair. She smelled of home cooking and blankets sewn by hand with care. Most of all, the eyes that hid behind the protection of her glasses glimmered in truth and positivity. He didn't consider himself a special creature, but at that moment, he knew that his keen senses were telling him to trust her.

"My name is Muriel." The woman introduced herself, "Would you like to come home with me?"

It was because of her touch and gaze that made the puppy smile as he hugged the closest arm to him. Muriel's smile grew as her arms wrapped around his waist in a firm embrace.

"I'll call you 'Courage'. We'll have a grand time!" She promised him before heading off to take him home in a green pick-up truck across the street.

Courage let himself get lost at the touch of Muriel's arms, sinking into the warmth even when she got into the truck and gently placed him to her side. He never stopped touching her lap for anything. Although no one could replace his family, this woman was a welcoming close second. He thought about the days he'd spend with his new owner. Perhaps she'll feed him good meals and they do chores or crafts together. Maybe they'll spend their quiet days rocking back and forth with him curled up on her lap. They would grow old together and he'll help her around the house. He'll protect her. If there were monsters out there in the world, he was determined to protect one of the good humans in the world even if it meant his life. But he didn't think too much of it for now.

Courage lifted his head up after a while and watched as acres of sand and dirt zipped right by before his eyes. It was just miles of nothing. He glanced to the front to see a little house and a windmill coming over the horizon. A house in the middle of nowhere away from people? Yes. This was home to Courage.

#Courage #Courage the Cowardly Dog #fanfiction #SNJstories #Bad Things Happen Bingo #badthingshappenbingo #Muriel #touch starved #cw: animal cruelty #cw: thoughts of animal abuse #Remembrance of Courage Past

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xoscarlettlox · 4 years

Text

So uhhh, I have written a lengthy and completely self edited fanfic about my take on the aftg world, I posted the very first chapter on Ao3 a couple of months ago and decided, why not post it here as well!

Neil Josten has been on the run for 10 years now, him and his companion Raven Lirette only have each other and Exy, a sport that they would undoubtedly die to play; Raven Dumott is the daughter to the Lola Malcom, the butcher of Baltimore’s right hand and one Neil and Raven’s tormentors.

••••

“Neil, we have to go.”

Raven’s voice snaps Neil back into mental awareness, they are both standing on a black sanded beach, the smell of ocean and saltwater thick in the air; mixed with the smell of putrid smoke and gasoline fumes that makes the air unbreathable, his whole body feels the weight of every breath that his body makes, every hiss of the wind on his wind chapped lips, and it makes him remember who is not here and will never be; his nails bite into his palms, breaking skin to keep him here, in the now with Raven, raven who is still here but won’t be if you don’t move now!; his mind screams at him, “I know.” Neil says, his voice coming out as a shock, a sound that reminds him of shattering glass on concrete.

He forced his gaze that was transfixed to the coal stained sands up to the 1970 Volvo that used to be a boring monotone brown that has now been turned into a blackened husk of a car, his mother’s charcoaled bones have long since been buried deep into the Californian earth near the highway just up the hill, a highway they should have been on and away from hours ago.

He looks over at Raven, her long hickory curls made almost the color of pitch in the inky midnight, he looks at her tear stained face, not from emotional attachment to his mother but from the fumes that were emitted from the destroyed car that had made Raven’s eyes water and Neil cry even more, he gazed at the crimson cut on her right eyebrow which was just as umber as the rest of her hair and tried to memorize the features of the only living person Neil knew who would kill for him and Neil would do so in kind for his longtime companion; and finally said “what do we do now?” His voice was raw, but less so then before, she didn’t reply right away instead marched her way up the sandy hill towards the highway, Neil followed her obediently in his numbed haze. Halfway to the top she says “we do what we always do, we run.”

-1 year later-

Neil and Raven were perched on the bleachers, Neil nursing the acrid smoke of a cigarette and trying not to remember the peel of a body glued to a leather car seat slathered with scarlet, and Raven silently sucking down her second cigarette in the last 10 minutes, her fingers were cool on his cheek, a show of affection that he leaned into, tonight was the Millport dingos last game of the season, to Neil it was a farewell to something that hadn’t made him feel alive in forever, Neil needed Exy like everyone needed oxygen to breathe, Neil knew Raven felt the same way, but less so. They tapped their cigarettes at the same time, the ash falling gracefully into the chilly Arizona winds, he glanced up at the blacked out sky and not for the first time- he wondered if his mother was up there- looking down on him and willing herself back to corporeal reality in order to beat the stupidity out of his entire being.

Neil and Raven jumped into high alert as a door creaked open, they both shuffled their respective duffles beneath their feet further under the bleachers stands, Raven reached for the knives stationed in her thigh sheaths, but paused as they saw who had invaded their cocoon. Coach Hernandez propped said door open to plop onto the bleacher in front of the teens.

“I didn’t see your family at the game tonight.” Hernandez said.

“they’re out of town.” Raven said lazily, she lied almost as good as Neil if not better.

Hernandez quirked a graying bushy brow at them, “Still or Again?”

Neither, but not Neil nor Raven could reveal any of this to their coach, the sorry excuse had been well expired and they’re teachers and Coach were tired of the recycled lie, but it explained why the Jostens weren’t ever in town, it also made it 10x easier to say Raven was his cousin that had moved in with Jostens due to the death of her family two years ago, it patched up any lose ends on why they were both eighteen.

Not to mention that Millport Arizona was basically where the half dead retired until they were actually dead, no one asked questions since everybody knew everybody; it made for a sublime place to hear who came in and out, which worked out for both Raven and Neil to get them the hell out of dodge in case his father decided to cash in his threats of death and torture to the both of them.

Suddenly Hernandez reached out for both of their cigarettes signally with a quick flick of his fingers to hand them over; Raven ignoring his hand, ground hers out completely but not before taking a strong drag, Neil obediently handed his over and watched as Hernandez crushed it beneath his sneaker which clanged obnoxiously on the metal bleacher before he tosses the destroyed bud aside;

“I thought they would at least make the exception tonight” He said.

“No one knew it’d be the last game,” Neil says, looking over at the court.

Raven snorted beside Neil, they both knew it was a lie. Millport’s loss was a sting but not an unexpected one, it had booted them from state championships two games away from finals, again it was not a surprise, the dingos were a terrible team; they barely kept up their winning streak because of Neil and Raven alone, but the missed possibility still clawed him raw. And now the Exy court would become the Soccer court again.

“We’ll call them later with the score,” Raven said, because Hernandez was silently waiting for an answer and Neil wasn’t going to answer anytime soon, “they didn’t miss much,” she finished off.

“Not yet, maybe,” Hernandez said.

“There’s someone here to see you two.”

Those seven words were all it took for both of their hearts to seize in their chests, and have them scrambling for the duffles beneath their feet and up off the bleachers towards the nearest exit, a scuff behind them revealed that they were indeed too late to escape. When they turned they were met with a beast of a man, adorned in a stark white wife beater and tribal tattoos encroached in flames on both biceps, one hand was concealed within his jeans pocket and the other was holding two suspicious vanilla colored folders, Neil notes that his stance was casual but his mahogany eyes had a look of intent.

Neither Neil nor Raven recognized him, not likely to be one of his fathers men then, it was unlikely that his father would send anyone else but Lola and her brother to the task. And with 900 residents in Millport, he definitely wasn’t the sort Neil or Raven would forget about. He looked over at Raven to confirm, brows furrowed, she shook her head slightly.

“We don’t know you,” Neil said.

“He’s from a university,” Hernandez said. throwing it into the tense silence. “He came to see you both play tonight.”

“Bullshit,” Raven seethes, “No one recruits from Millport. No one knows where it even is.”

“There’s this thing, y’know called a map?”

The man said, “You might have heard of it,”

Hernandez sends both Neil and Raven a reproaching look, Raven gazes back with nothing but ice in her eyes, Hernandez gets to his feet, “He’s here because I sent him your file. He put out a note saying he was short on his striker line, and I figured it was worth a shot. I didn’t tell you two because I didn’t know if anything would come of it and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Neil just stared.

“You did what?” Raven asked, her voice was all ice but Neil could hear the fear and hope that she tried to smother.

“I tried contacting your parents/guardians when he asked for a face-to-face tonight, but they haven’t returned any of my messages. You two said they would try to make it tonight.”

“They did,” Neil Finally said voice even, “They couldn’t.”

“I cannot wait for them,” tribal tattoos said clomping down the steps to stand beside Hernandez, “ It’s incredibly late in the season, I know that; but I had some technical difficulties with my last striker sub and it was pure luck that I had come across you two. Your coach says you guys don’t finish till fall, works out just peachy doesn’t it? I need the both of you on my line and you need a team. All you have to do is sign here, and are mine for five years.”

Neil’s throat felt as if it had been stuffed full of cobwebs, he cleared his throat a few times, “You can’t be serious.”

“Very serious, and very out of time.” The man said dearly grave.

He tossed the folders onto the bleacher nearest to them, a lifeline dangled in front of people holding onto the thinnest of threads-a future, a promise of something besides surviving. Neil and Raven both knew they couldn’t take it, but the want and the “what if” sucker punched them both nearly in half. They both knew in 5 weeks when they graduated they’d be long gone, Raven Dumott and Neil Josten would be no more, nothing besides two slight smudges in a hopelessly messy abstract painting.

He should have gotten used to this, the bottomless pit of disappointment, and the ever present reminder that his father could still torture him without even being there to touch a blade to his skin. Raven and Neil had twenty-two past lives each to themselves, but Neil Josten felt real for the short period of time that he was him; Raven felt the same way, Neil could tell by the way her brown eyes never strayed away from the folders as if by her own sheer force of will she could be able to hold onto this fable and make it into a reality worth living.

They both knew what it would cost, being still and stable; signing this contract was essentially signing their deaths, but a voice in the back of his head that he could not silence whispered, what about mother? We ran and ran and they still got her, you know it’s death either way Abram. Neil turned to Raven, she shook her head, even though the glint in her brown eyes revealed she was thinking the same thing-had the same voice in her head. His father was in prison, but his father’s henchman weren’t, the risk was too high for Raven and Neil, they both knew they were pulling at strings that would inevitably be cut.

“Please go away.” Raven said, her voice rang out a bit pleading but hard.

“I know it’s a bit sudden, but I have to have an answer by tonight, the committees been on my ass since Janie got committed.”

Both his and Raven’s eyes snapped up to meet the man’s, his stomach dropped to his toes and pooled at his feet;

“The foxes.” Neil said incredulously, “Palmetto State University.”

Tribal tattoo’s- Coach David Wymack, looked taken aback at how quickly Neil had figured it out; it wasn’t a coincidence that he didn’t outright say he was here to recruit them to the lowest ranked team in Class I Exy, The palmetto state foxes.

“I guess you the saw the news.”

“Hmm, technical difficulties you said,” Raven said voice technically a glacier, “Funny way to say that your striker sub almost committed suicide.”

David Wymack was well known to give the chances to those form broken homes and fucked up pasts.

The Foxhole Court was known for the fractured isolationists who couldn’t move past their egotism to actually win a game, They were notorious in the NCAA for not only how small and meager the team was in numbers but the fact that they barely scraped by to hold their Class I ranking. As Wymack had said the committee was tired of his shit.

Then former national champion Kevin Day, joined the line. It was the best thing for the foxes in-ever. Which meant he and Raven were absolutely not signing with them. Raven caught and held is gaze and nodded towards the exit, they both knew now without a shadow of a doubt this was a door they absolutely did not want to open.

“You can’t be here.” Neil said.

“Yet here I stand.” Wymack said “Need a pen?”

“No,” Raven said voice all steel, “We’re not playing for you.”

“I mishear you.”

“You signed Kevin,” Neil says.

“And Kevin is signing you both-“

Raven and Neil did not wait to hear the rest.

They bolted towards the locker room, ignoring both coaches surprised sputters, and continued down towards the exit, metal clanged loudly beneath Neil’s ratty sneakers and Raven’s black boots, All that mattered was getting the hell away from the empty promises, Coach Hernandez and his hopeful and worried gaze; forget everything besides running until the disappointments and missed opportunities felt like a dull hum of background noise.

Raven was in front of him, she was halfway through the locker room when a loud curse echoed through the cement walls, someone was waiting for them, but Raven anticipated the hit right before it hit her sternum, she grabbed the hideously yellow base of the racquet and held on with a death grip, and looks down at the assailant, Neil tried to move by but she holds him in place with her other hand.

“Fuck off.” Raven grits between her teeth, just then Wymack bursted in.

“God dammit Minyard! This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Oh Coach,” someone said in front of Raven, “If they were nice they wouldn’t be any use to us, would they?”

“They are no use if you break them,”

“Au contrair Coach, this ones feisty.” Neil had finally had enough, he stepped around Raven to reveal, her and a blonde midget in a tug-of-war match with a racquet; said blonde midget suddenly let go of the racquet entirely making Raven stumble only the slightest bit.

The midget turned towards Neil, who wore a sickeningly blinding white grin on his face that made Neil’s stomach turn; Andrew Minyard, goal keeper for the Palmetto State Foxes and a national threat to society. Neil could tell by the way Andrew bounced on the balls of feet and the way that manic gleam in his eyes never strayed from his own and Raven’s that he was high off his rocker.

Raven moves to stand next to him, silently willing him to get the hell out of here; Andrews manic smile seemed to stretch out even more,

“To be continued, I suppose.” Andrew said with an awful glint in his eyes as he regards Raven with intrigue, he then brought two fingers to his temple in a mock salute.

“Whose fucking racquet did you steal?” Raven seethe.

“Borrow.” Andrew said turning his gaze back towards Neil, “Seems as though your raven, is actually a bodyguard.”

“ Neil, Raven are you alright?” Coach Hernandez said, him catching up to them and stands next to Wymack.

“Just peachy Coach H, you try getting your sternum almost knocked out of your body and see how you like it.” Raven said sarcastically all ice, she must’ve been imagining that it was Neil who was in front of her instead. Neils skills in fighting only went so far since he was not trained as hard as Raven was before they ran, Mary had made sure to keep them in top fighting shape; but Neil knew he’d never be as good as Raven.

Wymack’s gaze darkened a bit on Andrew but he held his tongue against what he really wanted to say, “Andrew’s a bit raw on manners,” coming around to stand in between blond haired midget and and the two teens. Andrew apparently was able to read clear warnings in his drugged state of mind, he backed a way with his hands upturned and backed away to give them space.

“He break anything?” Wymack said, looking at Raven.

“Nope.” Raven said looking straight at the exit.

“We’re fine and we’re leaving, let us go.” Neil said.

“We’re not done.” Wymack said.

“We are and we don’t care.” Raven chimes in.

“Coach Wymack-“ Hernandez starts, warning evident in his voice.

“Just give us a moment, will ya?” Wymack said.

Hernandez is hesitant to leave but he does, “I’ll be out back.” Hernandez said, Looking from Neil to Raven. They both nod knowing they won’t be needing him.

They waited for the steps to recede into the night, the rattle as the door was unhinged from where it was propped, squealed shut, and then clicked.

“We already told you, we are not playing for your team, you have the answer that you needed, so now we leave.” Raven said.

“You don’t know the whole entire offer,” Wymack said “If I paid to have three people flown out to bumfuck Arizona, the least you could do is give me five minutes of your time.”

Neil’s stomach was again pooling at his feet, the blood was gone from his whole body, leaving the world cold with shock and fear, Raven clasped onto his forearm centering him here, even though she was feeling the same icy hot fear Neil was feeling. He should have put it together once he realized Andrew was here.

“You brought him here?” Neil said, numb.

Wymack stares hard at them, confused; “Is that a problem?” He said.

“We’re not good enough to play alongside a champion.” Raven lied easily, everyone who was in the room knew that they were.

A scoff was heard somewhere behind them, “Partly true, but irrelevant.”

Raven was stock still at his side, and Neil’s heart was basically beating in his throat at this point. They turned around at this same time, their bodies supposedly on autopilot.

Kevin Day was centered in the middle of the entertainment console behind them, and he was haloed by papers that were scattered haphazardly around him, apparently watching the whole debacle unfurl in front of him, judging by the cool measured look he sent Raven and Neil, he was wholly unimpressed with what he was seeing.

Neil and Raven had not seen Kevin since that brutal day at Evermore ten years ago, when they had seen his father and Lola brutally torture and slice a man into one hundred bloody ribbons, and by then both Neil and Raven were desensitized to the gore of their families occupation, but he’ll never forgot the sheer terror on Kevin’s face as he regarded him and Raven after it was over.

It was as though Kevin had not changed, as though they had just taken child Kevin and stretched out his body to be an adult, he had the same dark almost black hair, same emerald green eyes; and when Neil’s gaze snagged onto that damn tattoo, he swore he stopped breathing, he wanted to retch until he was numb.

A memory resurfaced, tiny Kevin putting a black sharpie to his small rounded face that was taken up by saucer green eyes, and traced a two on a chubby cheekbone that he retraced when the former had faded, telling Neil and Raven that they would make court someday with him and Riko, #1,#2,#3, and #4 they had recited over and over.

Kevin and Riko reached the stars; while Raven and Neil dunk into the trenches of the deepest pits of the ocean floor, fighting for any patch of air that could be found in order to avoid completely drowning.

Neil wanted to bolt, to run until he could no longer stand. He looked over at Ray and could tell she was itching to do the same, her hands twitched towards the knives at her thighs.

Neil knew Kevin could not recognize them, at this point Raven and Neil had to be unrecognizable, they both were concealed with hair dye and dark contacts; so why was the Kevin Day in a backwater retirement town in bumfuck Arizona? Had he and Raven fucked up somehow, fucked up besides playing Exy at all that is.

“What are you doing here?” Neil asked.

“Why are you leaving?” Kevin rebutted.

He asked you first.” Raven stated.

Kevin’s eyes flicked over to her impassively, but Neil saw a spark of something Neil couldn’t name, so he forced himself to pay attention to it.

“Coach already answered that question for you,” Kevin said annoyingly impatient, his eyes flicked back over to Raven’s for a second before turning back to Neil’s scrutinizing gaze, “We are waiting for you two to sign the contract, Stop wasting all of our time.”

“Nope,” Raven said with emphasis on the P, “There are a thousand other strikers in the U.S. that would love to play for the great Kevin Day.” She said mockingly.

“Why don’t you bother them?” Neil added. Kevin’s face flushed slightly, he huffed and Wymack chimed in before Kevin could undoubtedly unleash his wrath.

“We saw their files,” Wymack said “we chose you two.”

“We won’t play with Kevin.” Neil said.

“You will.” Kevin huffed.

Wymack shrugged his shoulders at Neil. “Maybe you noticed but we are not leaving until you guys say yes. Kevin says we have to have you two, and he’s right.”

“We honestly should have ripped your coach’s letter to shreds the moment we saw your statistics, they are subpar at best and not what we need on our line.” Kevin said, Neil notes that he did not look at Raven as he said his piece, “Lucky for you he sent us a tape from one your past games, you two play with skill that is unexpected and with some fine tuning and a lot of practice we could actually turn you into something acceptable to be able to play on our court. You both play like you have your lives on the line.”

Raven is stock still and silent; “So that’s why?” Neil asked.

“What else would you want in a striker?” Kevin said.

Relief hit both Neil and Raven like a freight train, this was all just a sick twisted coincidence, the universe was a cruel and demented thing. This was a sign, a sign to not stay in one place too long, an example of what could happen for the still and non runners, what would happen if it was Lola next time? Or even worse, his father himself? They couldn’t take that chance, this should be an easy choice, to listen to his instincts and his dead mothers dying wishes, but a big part of Neil wanted this so badly he ached with the need to say yes.

“This works out for the better anyways, No one besides your coach knows that we are here to recruit you guys,” Wymack explained, “That way the ERC won’t be on your guy’s ass with news spreads and interviews until the semester starts in late August.”

“We didn’t say yes.” Raven said.

“But I have feeling that your going too.” Wymack stated matter of factly.

Neil turned toward Raven fully,

“This is not a good idea.” Neil said.

Raven ignored him completely, “If we sign we will get complete anonymity until the semester? As well as housing?” Raven asked.

Wymack nods his head, “You can’t move into the dorms until June 13th when the rest of the foxes get there. But yes to both, to answer your questions.”

“Five years?” She asked again.

Wymack nods.

“We need a pen then.” Raven said, an air of finality was clear in her voice. Cutting a look to Neil that dared him to speak up, her gaze was piercing enough to get the message, we would be absolute idiots to turn this down. Neil nodded, suddenly angry with a mix of sick excitement.

Wymack gives them a wide grin, incredibly pleased; Neil nor Raven looked at Kevin again, now that their panic had subsided they didn’t care or want to have anything to do with him besides Exy.

Wymack pulls out the envelopes and gives them their respective pens; then Neil Josten and Raven Dumott are forever inscribed into a legally binding contract and are officially Palmetto Foxes.

Link to the rest of the chapters:

#aftg fic #aftg fanfic #andreil #tfc fanfic #andrew minyard #neil josten #the foxes #kevin day #matt boyd #allison reynolds #dan wilds #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #renee walker #long post

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regdaran · 4 years

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Revenant~Noir Chapter 3: Mémoire Brisée

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3

(Chat Noir)

They where chasing him, they had even gotten close to finding him. Somehow they just kept following him. He was certain that they never saw him, but they kept following. He over heard parts of their conversations when they got close. They were specifically hunting him. They called him Chat Noir. Just like what that man had called him. Just like what everyone kept yelling. They mentioned her at one point. Ladybug, she had been sent to the graveyard. It hurt, his head was throbbing. There was a pain in the hole of his chest. A stone fell into the alley he was hiding in. He looked up, broken from his pain induced stupor. There they were, right above him. Two women: an orange fox, and a yellow-black bee. They were shaking tools of some kind. "Why won't it work?" The orange one said. He could feel her name at the tip of his tongue. "Well, he isn't exactly a member of the team right now." The yellow one said. "Remember how we tried to find Hawkmoth with the miraculous locators?" 'Hawkmoth' That word sounded familiar, and alarming. "Yea, he led us into a trap, nearly took out LB and Chat. But back then... Hawkmoth did that by forcing his Kwami to alter the magic in vile ways. Master Fu warned us of the dangers of messing with the magic of the Miraculous." What were they talking about?! 'kwami', 'Hawkmoth', 'Master Fu'. Those words echoed around in his head. He thought it was going to split open. His chest felt like something was being ripped out of it! He had to run, run and hid from these women who's words hurt his mind. So he did. He could hear them talking as he ran, as something inside him screamed out its malice filled cry. An hour passed as their cat and mouse resumed. Then the yellow one said. "Hey... How is Mar-" Then he felt it, the shiver of terror that worked its way down his spine. The spike of memories that bolted through his mind.

He could feel it as it approached them. He heard a scream, like rending metal. Blood, far too much blood. How could one person have so much? He could feel the memory, an ocean of red and black and death. There were more screams, but they where different. Not the seemingly melodic cry of his nightmares, but screams of fear and terror. He could hear heavy foot falls, those women must running away. "WHERE IS THE DEAD CAT!" A voice that made him want to vomit. A voice like whispered threats and fulfilled promises, yelled out as it chased his pursuers. His head hurt, it felt like it was going to be ripped open, a casualty of the thing that was erupting out of his soul! Flashes of running, of pushing someone out of the way for the final time. He was on the ground at this point. Hands clutching his head, he could feel something inside his mind shattering apart. With a flash of clarity, he... Adrien remembered something. He remembered the moment he died. As the mental block, keeping that trauma at bay, broke against a new facet of his being. He was forced to wake up.

(A fractured memory)

Things had been steadily getting harder. The Akuma and Sentimonsters had been rough fights, even before they started teaming up. Having Rena and Carapace keep their miraculous with them had made it all easier for a time. Then, Master Fu died... No one knew how it happened. He got a call, a date and time, and orders to appear as Chat Noir. Ladybug and the others all showed up as well. It was a startlingly brief affair. Miss Lenoir was there. He didn't remember much of the actual service, his therapist said it was most likely from shock. No one would tell him how Fu died. Carapace seemed to take it the hardest out of everyone. He is... was... Fu's direct disciple. He took so much pride from it. Not a day later that IT started to appear. It called it's self Harbinger. There was no ulterior motive, to reason as to why they, whoever they where, had been akumatized. They still didn't even know if it was an akuma or not. What ever it was... it was kicking their asses.

Carapace went flying past him. Right, there are more pressing matters. Chat ran toward Harbinger, his staff making contact with the road before launching him into the air above his enemy. Ladybug was on the other side of Harbinger, ready to complete their dual attack. His staff struck Harbingers out stretched scythe, but as his boots where about to land squarely on his opponents face, er... skull, he phased through the rest of harbinger. It was as he crashed into LB and they went tumbling down a section of the street, that Chat remembered that Harbinger can travel through solid objects like they are made of gasses. That felt wrong! So wrong! "Excuse me, my lady." He said as he de-tangled him self from Ladybug. Oh god, for a moment there, Ladybug was wrapped around him. If this where better circumstances he would be thanking Plagg and Tikki from the bottom of his heart. As it stood, this was neither the time nor the place...

"Venom" yelled Queen Bee as she tried to land a hit on Harbinger in any kind of meaningful way. They had found out during the first few battles against Harbinger that even if Chloe hit with her power, if she hit 'arms' or cloak it wouldn't count as a paralyzing strike. The entire team hoped a blow to Harbingers skull would activate her ability and stop him long enough for them to purify the akuma. She was grabbed by the throat and smashed into Rena Rogue. The pair went flying in the same direction as Carapace, who's shield had been completely shattered by Harbingers weapon. It was an scythe, its handle was a sickly pale wood with knots of dark rot trailing through it, its blade was an over-sized rusted thing that was sharp enough to cut through steel beams. He and Ladybug where still getting up. No one had much energy left, the fight had started at noon and the sun had set at some point in the battle. Saying no one had energy left was wrong, Harbinger was still going strong. How did he have this much strength left? Every one on the team had re-transformed 3 times, Ladybugs lucky charm had been destroyed by Harbingers scythe. Lucky Charms where supposed to be unbreakable. Trying to cataclysm Harbingers scythe had been next to impossible. Harbinger had put his own bones in the way, that meant the overgrown gardening tool had to hold the akuma butterfly. No matter how many fights went by, or how many bones or limbs that Harbinger lost, it always got away and came back stronger with new limbs and fresh clean bones. He knew what that meant, everyone did. If this kept going on, it would only mean more people would die. "We have to end this now, my lady." Was she listening? She just kept staring at the shattered pieces of her lucky charms. He could see an idea bloom inside her head.

Harbinger started floating toward them. "My LADY! Watch out!" He yelled. He sprung to push her down, and then he moved to roll out of the way of imminent death. He moved just fast enough for the blade to miss his head, but not fast enough for the scythe to miss entirely. His left shoulder burned with pain as he felt the blade enter and exit as fast as lightning, he couldn't feel his entire arm from the wound down.

"Ladybug focus or we-"

"I've got a plan!"

Then she ran toward one of the less damaged lucky charms a metal net, and grabbed it. "Chat!" She said while pointing at mostly intact power cable. "Rena, Queen, Carapace!" She yelled at the three who were approaching the fight again. He ran to grab the cable she needed. 'Had her lucky charm shown her a plan?' he thought. He held the cord in his hands while dodging Harbingers attacks. If Queen wasn't try to clean his clock, and Rena Rogue and Carapace weren't running distraction he would already had been batted away or worse. Ladybug landed next to him and grabbed the other end of the cable and started to weave it into the wire net she had picked up. "When I give you the signal throw it!" Then she ran toward a street light with the free end of the cable in her hands, and started climbing. 'What was she-' "OH!" This was going to be brilliant! He jumped around to keep out of reach of that murderous blade. He could see Carapace grabbing a shard of lucky charm mirror, and Rena had pulled darts from somewhere and was blowing them through her flute. Those two never ceased to amaze him. He started to get into the best position to throw a net. It was just as Ladybug was about to give the signal... when everything went wrong. Queen over reached with a punch and was grabbed again. "Don't you throw me!" She yelled, though her words fell on deaf 'ears' as Harbinger slung her, directly into the street light this time. She hit with enough to bend the steel, and he could hear crunching sounds as Queen Bee collapsed to the ground.

"Now!" She yelled as she fell from the light, she had smashed the bulb and wired the power cable into the socket. 'When did she?' There was no time to answer that thought, as he had one chance to throw the net. One chance to stop Harbinger after weeks of marauding. Carapace and Rena had both grabbed an arm each, Harbinger was just about to phase through them. He threw the net, electricity arcing off of it in waves. This was it. Harbinger was finally going to be stopped.

Instead, first Carapace and then Rena Rogue were sent sailing into the net, which then crashed into Chat Noir. All three started to sizzle from the power running through it. "Shit!" Ladybug said as she tried to disconnect the street lamp from the cable. She had turned her back on Harbinger. He could see it, almost like a window into the future opened up, Harbinger was going to kill her with his scythe and then watch as everyone else either bleed out or fried. He realized he could move his legs and his right arm. He realized he had a choice to make, He could run to push Ladybug out of the way and finally cataclysm that scythe leaving his friends to cook inside the net... or... he could push his lady out of the way and cataclysm the pole saving his team mates. He could see each situation play out, over and over again. He could see the consequences... He chose.

Ladybug looked behind her as she fell out of the way. His eyes locked with hers as he destroyed the pole. Their eyes where still locked when Harbingers blade ripped into his chest and tore out his heart. 'Run" he mouthed... as the world fell away... someone was screaming... Someone was crying.

"Not you kid! Not again!"

(Chat Noir)

"AAAHHH!" he yelled as ran toward Harbinger. His skin felt like it was made of fire, everything was moving so slow. When did he start running towards it. His staff when crashing into Harbingers head faster than the skeletal monstrosity could react. Harbingers skull fractured as the pulse of destructive energy ran through the pole and into the bone. "AAAAAHHHH!" This time it was Harbingers turn to yell and scream. It grabbed him, and threw the feline superhero into a building. Bricks and mason work fell around him as he got back up and made to re enter the fight. "Come back here! Come back here so I can KILL YOU!" His words reverberated through the air and caused Harbinger to stagger as the magic laced within them hit its target. If one could see the magics being used in this fight, they would most certainly comment on how a 'Chat Noir' should not be able to use cursing magic or shunt a 'Cataclysm' through his weapon. They would also note that very situation had just occurred and that the magics around and in the reanimated Chat Noir where becoming fouler by the minute.

The fight went on for nearly an hour. Not that Chat was keeping track of, or could care about, the time. Harbinger would attack, Chat would dodge. Every 10 minutes or so Chat would summon destructive negative energy from the depths of his soul, and destroy another piece of the monster that killed him. The pair crashed into the roof of a building. One that, if he could focus on anything other than killing the thing in front of him, chat would have recognized. Harbinger tried to raise his scythe to intercept the incoming Chat missile, but found it far heavier than it should be. His swing came in too late to hit Chat Noir. Then the 'Cataclysm', wrapped around Chats hand, found a new home in the collar bone of Harbinger. As the bones disintegrated, Harbingers screams could be heard for miles. This was it, he would stop this monster once and for all. As Chat Noir raised his hand into the air, the power of yet another Cataclysm coursing through his veins, he heard her. "Chat! NO!"

Chat Noir looked up, away from his prey.

Ladybug looked across the rooftops, towards a man about to execute someone.

Harbinger looked at Chat Noirs guts, as his scythe came bursting through them in the moment of hesitation.

#Revenant~Noir #Revenant Nior #miraculous ladybug #Chat Noir #Trama #Undead #I suck at adding tags

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heechulhamster · 5 years

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Flawed Humans - Kim Jongin (Kai)

KIM JONGIN x Reader

Angst, Husband!Jongin AU. 4162 words.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and infidelity, and lots of angst. (I hate the fact that I can only write angst, it seems like I don’t have any sweet bones for a fluff)

You two are just humans, flawed and imperfect. Humans that were susceptible to mistakes and to break promises. He was fragile and you’re unforgiving. Jongin was too malleable and you were too stubborn.

(Inspired by the song Humans by The Human League. One of my favorite 80s songs :)

+++

A glimmering color of gold, that was supposed to be the symbol of the love that never fades. The shape of a circle that emphasizes the infinite amount of time you were to spend with each other. And both of your initials symbolizing that it was something you own, whether that ownership be regarding the mere exorbitant jewelry lying in front of you, or the person whose other initial engraved upon it belongs to.

You stare at the wedding band you absentmindedly placed over the glass table, keenly examining all its features. And it was when you wonder, how a miniscule object can hold a boundless amount of sentiment attached and ordained by its owner. To others, it’s just an expensive metal forged into a piece of jewelry - a symbol of luxurious commitment. But to you, it is a metal that gave your life further meaning. It felt as if an extension of your existence, a portal from your ring finger to another person’s life - to his life. Well, it was.

You removed the ring for a reason.

There was always a restless feeling whenever the ring didn’t made contact on your finger. And you’ll typically be in a rush in search for the connection once more. But now, the skin that touched the jewelry itched, stinged, burned. Like a sore reminder of a relationship that turned sour, a promise that was broken, and a heart that was ruined - that he ruined.

So now you sit in isolation on the long dining table, your back facing the entrance that he could emerge from an any time now. All of your luggages are now packed and sealed in your room, ready to be picked up once the conversation you were dreading to engage in is over.

Then you hear the opening and shutting of the door. Your mere knowledge of his presence made your stomach turn a random degree, in pain, in disgust, in sadness. Your senses told you that he was approaching your place, and you breathed deeply. This is it.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him as his large hands started to envelop your torso from the back of your dining chair. His smell still that familiar musk that you love - yes, present tense, despite all the torment it stirs in your bones. You feel his lips on your cheek as his embrace around you tightens.

“What are you doing here all alone? I hope you weren’t waiting for me.” Jongin said with a chuckle before he lets you go and makes his way around the table to grab a cold drink from the refrigerator.

You swear you practiced the parting speech you were supposed to give. A rough explanation on why you’ll leave, a summary of his infidelity and how he broke you - and how much you’re unable to heal afterwards. But now like a dagger in your throat, your words were stuck and left silence on the thin air that enveloped the both of you.

“Work was a chaos today, Sehun kept on messing his lines up and we did a ton shit of retakes. Ah, the pain of the ass that boy is.” He started rambling regarding his job, his dream, his passion. The profession where you met him.

Jongin was just a simple production assistant when you met him, and you were just starting your way up an endless ladder of show business and landed a small role as a friend of the sister of the lead character. It was far off from your dream of formally acting and starring on the big screen but it was a start. You met him on set, the charismatic and promising crew member that was on one of his stepping stones to become an actual director.

You found yourself during the breaks in between takes with him hanging out in the back of a trailer truck. Sipping the much needed coffee for the shoot that transpired the whole night till the sun rises again. Chatting over the parts of your lives that you still didn’t know each other, seemingly catching up to the times that was before him and his life before he met you - as if the information would be useful as you’ll be spending the future together.

Maybe it wasn’t wishful thinking, as he asked you out after the production - not wanting to end your connection the same time the reel of the film ended. And two years after that, you gave your vows in front of your family and gave the promise of being together as long as your breaths are in the same rhythm as the other. And stand together as long as your heart beats the sound of his name and his bled yours in capital letters.The very same vow that he broke.

You decided to give up your futile dream of being a movie star not long after. Realizing that you just weren’t suited for the job, as the glitz and the glamour didn’t fit you nor satisfy you. You realized that the entertainment business was less of the art, and more of the business. An industry built on the capitalization of glamorous people to market them as what the society wants to be like. You deemed that as preposterous, you saw acting as a form of expression and art - and it just wasn’t it. So you shifted to the officework that most would say was legions of degrees more boring and black and white that the industry you used to be in. But you actually found happiness in the isolation and quietness of it.

However, Jongin is persevered to reach his lifelong dream of making art and imaginary universes on screen. To breathe conceptual characters unto life, making the ideas of writers translate onto screen and the audience. Which he actually reached, and became the wick of the time bomb that was your marriage.

It was inevitable for Jongin to meet a handful of astonishing, tempting, and young women who were eager to seduce him in their way up the industry ladder. You knew the hustle, it was dirty play but it’s how it works. Two years into your seemingly perfect and happy marriage, a promising young actress wannabe seduces your husband, the dashing director, her way into the lead role.

You weren’t supposed to find out. You sometimes wonder if you didn’t drop by on the set on unholy hours of the night. You drove 4 hours into the remote location they needed for the beach setting of the movie. Jongin has been gone for the better parts of the week, and besides for the natural longing for your husband, you wondered if he was resting enough to at least be at a functioning state or overworking yet again like the workaholic that he is. If you were to be honest, a peculiar intuition also fueled you to go there. A noticeable influx of texts from an unlabelled workmate flooded his phone during the few times that he was beside you when his new project started. He would usually be enthusiastic to tell each and every detail of an undergoing production but those past few days marked a decline in the information he gave. As if he was trying to hide something from you.

The hunches that you felt almost screamed at your face when a few of his crew looked as if all blood left their body when you appeared on the set. You just knew something was happening, but you were too afraid to conclude. It would be instinctive of you to crash on his trailer and catch him on the act, red handed. But what would that benefit you? An image to fill your nightmares with? A photographic memory of your husband, the love of your life, your Jongin, fucking a younger, sexier, and prettier starlet with the wide hips and small frame you could only be in memory. You’re sure you wouldn’t be able to bear with that memory, that image, ingrained in your mind for eternity so you faked a smile to his production assistant.

“On a break?” You tried to fake innocence, the image of a wife that was only here to see his husband - not catch him cheating.

Donghyuck, his young and loyal assistant was only able to nod. You see his tent illuminated from the inside, so you gestured that you’ll be on your way there. He opened his mouth, as if to warn you or hold you back from the nightmare that you’re imagining. It was rather a confirmation that your thoughts were real and God knows what’s happening inside that tent.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for him outside.” And you smiled with a paint of reassurance for the young man. A face with the underlying image of pain, and a pair of eyes that was only a blink away from shedding tears.

And there you stood outside the tent, and it took all your willpower to not go inside and pull the homewrecker by her hair. Or kick Jongin by his dick that was probably engaged in a heated activity inside another woman. The sounds gave off what exactly has happening inside, it was the shattering of a vow, the destruction of your heart, and the invalidation of the future you planned for the both of you.

All for what? A steaming sex inside a collapsible tent with a woman with the body proportions of a goddess, the lips of a devious seductress, and the eyes of a feline.

Yes, that was all it took for him to ruin everything.

Maybe her image spoke of the way you did look like when you first met? Young and fresh and new, maybe that was he was looking for. Maybe Jongin was tired of the same old you that didn’t see proper taking care of the past few months because she was too busy for her office work.

After what seemingly took forever of you waiting outside the dreaded tent, two figures emerged from the flaps of the exit. One of a breathtaking homewrecker, and that of a cheater of a husband. Both sweaty from what just took place, and Jongin was still buttoning his shirt when his eyes caught yours. His face turned from lust to an insurmountable amount of shock.

That was the last thread that was holding the floodgates from your eyes.

The first tear shed as you caught the other pair of eyes. You weren’t sure if she was just shocked, but she surely wasn’t apologetic. Damn, you couldn’t even pin a name on the slut that destroyed your marriage. A lame excuse of an artist who was willing to ruin a marriage in exchange of fame, or maybe she really lusted after your husband - the one labelled as the hottest director in the industry as to date. One who looked like he belonged more in front of the cameras rather than giving instructions behind it. You wouldn’t be able to blame her then, who could help themselves from wanting a taste of Kim Jongin?

But that Kim Jongin was yours, that taste was only yours for the taking.

Your eyes wandered back to Jongin when he spoke of your name. A bitter taste flooded your mouth in the thought that he still had the audacity to call you after what had transpired moments ago. You tried to win the situation and keep your calm, be the classy and mannered wife in front of the other woman and your cheating husband. With a small smile forming on your lips, your eyes wandered on his left hand. And there you saw the familiar shimmer of gold, a band of metal that’s full of promises and a future that can now be considered tarnished or obsolete.

“You didn’t even bother removing your ring, I see. That excited?” You said sarcastically.

“It’s not-” Jongin started as he took steps to you. To which you cackled a small amount of laugh at, he wasn’t actually trying to lie out of this wasn’t he?

“We both know what this is, Jongin.” You turned your head back to her. “I don’t usually have a knack for sharing, but it looks like I didn’t have control over the situation. It’s not my choice that my husband wanted to be shared.”

Jongin’s warm hands held your elbows, a usual gesture that you should be used to but now disgusted at. His warm brown eyes pleading for you to listen, or maybe for forgiveness as he accepted his defeat that he cannot be acquitted of the situation. So you just let your guard down and your tears fall, maybe it would break him to see you in pain if his love and care for you still existed in the deepest chambers of his heart.

“I hope it was all worth it, Jongin.” With that, you struggled out of his grasps and back into your car. It was blurry how you managed to get home with all the noise that occupied your mind - but you managed to go home safe, and it was needless to say that Jongin came barging in a few hours after begging for your forgiveness.

He promised a lot of things, that he would change for the better, that he would try and make things right, that he’ll never look the other way again, and that he would make it up to you. But were those band-aid solutions enough to mend the ruins that was left of your heart? You agreed to try again, still too stubborn and dumbly inlove with Jongin to let him go. You don’t know if you could start your life from scratch so you agreed to stay and maybe rebuild the things he broke.

And he indeed changed, he would always come home no matter how late the production ends and no matter how far away the locations were set. He always updated you on everything, as if he could lessen or eradicate the doubts that were bound to fill your mind when he was away. Jongin always let you meet the new actors he was working with and always introduced you as his loving wife, the love of his life, his everything. And maybe you would believe that he really viewed you that way. That if he labelled himself as taken and committed to a wife that waits for him at home, you’d be assured that he’s sticking to your vows that it was just you and him for better or for worse.

But for you, it was never the same. It’s unfair, for sure. But then again, he was the one who ruined the trust you built for him. Every flower he sends, you think that maybe he’s covering up for another mistake. That every call you get late at night was a facade he uses to hide his wrongdoings. And everytime he touches you, when his lips touch yours, you can’t help but remember that you’re not the sole body he made contact with even if you were already bound and tied by marriage. He tried his best but you were to ruined to take notice, too much of a mess to even build yourself back. You can’t even fix yourself at this point, what more your marriage?

And there was his damn ring that was a splitting image of yours, only a few sizes larger. You’ll never forget that he was able to cheat, to touch another, to break you, wearing the ring you put on him on your wedding day along with all your promises and dreams. It was a sore, painful, insult that the ring that meant so much to you wasn’t able to remind Jongin of the promises he said in front of your family and friend, the promises he made for you. That it will always and only be you.

And that’s why your own ring sat on the table and not in the middle of your fingers.

Jongin saw the blank stare of your eyes, either wanting to tell so much that it wouldn’t come out or just a space of nothingness. So you proceeded to talk,

“I’m leaving.” Was all you muttered to say of all the pieces of speech you prepared the past few days.

“Where are you going? We could take a vacation right after this production we’re only two weeks away from finishing-” You cut him off. There was a rushed sense in the way he spoke so you knew that he was aware of what you were actually pertaining to.

“I’m leaving for good, Jongin.” Your eyes met his warm gaze, his face painted of confusion and pain. “My bags are packed upstairs, I just wanted to tell you formally so I waited for you.” You tried to smile as if it would lighted the burden of the situation.

“Why?” Was all he muttered to say, a contrast of the man he is with his way with words. All he was able to matter was a three letter word that he already knew an answer to.

“You know why, Jongin.” It was already a good four months after that night but you came to a resolution that everything was never going to be the same for the both of you so you came to this conclusion.

“I thought we were doing great, I thought we were being fine? I told you I’ll make it up.” He was a mess in front of you, the way his fingers rattled as he took the seat opposite yours and clasped your hands on the table. The way his words were a rattle rather than a concrete sentence. You couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him, to hate him, you still loved him so much. And the sight before you still brought a pang to your heart despite everything that happened.

“Was it not enough? I swear I’ll spend more time with you. After this- after this, I won’t take in projects to spend more time with you. Just don’t leave, don’t leave please. Let me fix this. Let me fix us.” Jongin put your hands on his cheeks and pressed lousy kisses on it as small drops of tears escaped his face which led to your own falling too.

“I’m sorry but I just can’t look at you the same way as before. I don’t know how to meet your eyes without breaking my heart. How to trust you when you’re away. How to accept your touches without ever thinking about how you touched her. It’s just not the same.” You explained. His hands still clasping yours as he sobbed on them.

His eyes trailed to the gold band on top of the table, one hand letting go of yours as he picked up the ring. “Why would you take it off? We’re still married, please put it back. Please, Y/N..”

A sudden surge of displeasure flooded your palate. “How could you be the one to remind me that we’re still married? I know, Jongin. I know very well. Weren’t you the one who purposefully forget that even if you still wore a fucking ring?” You stood up in disbelief.

“It was a mistake! It was a mistake that I fucking regret everyday. Are you just going to hold it against me forever? I’m trying to fix this -” His hands waved all over the place as he tried to make a point. “I’m trying to fix us! But you’re unfair and you’re not giving me a chance!”

“I’m unfair? I’m the one who’s unfair, Jongin? It’s not my fault I can’t trust you anymore. How can I? How can I trust you when you were the very person I dedicated my life to but disregarded that by fucking some starlet for her big boobs and tiny waist?” You were never fond of profanities but there was no other way for expressing the pent up anger and pain in your heart.

“And mistake? It was never just as simple as that, Jongin. It was a group of decisions you’ve made, choices you’ve taken even if you knew how much it would break me, how much it would destroy me, how much it would break us. And the fact that you still went for it like an excited teenage boy just destroys every piece inside me that makes me want to make amends with you. Because how could I live with the knowledge that you chose to ruin our marriage over something as shallow as sex?”

All he was able to do was stare at the floor, on nothingness.

“You know what? That’s the most optimistic point of view I had in the situation. At least you were still thinking of me. But sometimes I think maybe I was completely absent from your mind, that you don’t think of me anymore that’s why it was so easy for you.” The last strands of your strength just crashed. After all these time, this marked the first time you opened up about what he did. Because there was a silent agreement between you two that if you didn’t talk about it, it would feel as if it never happened. That his infidelity never existed. That she was just a speckle of imagination and the two of you were still the perfect couple you once were. But tonight, the front is dropped and the truth is told. That neither of you have healed from the trauma, that he’s still guilty and he’ll always be, and you’re still hurt and you don’t know if it will change.

“I love you, I love you so much, Y/N. I was wrong. I was so wrong, and I know that nothing I say would make it alright, that I couldn’t change what I’ve done. But believe me that I’m still mad at myself for hurting you, for ruining us. I’d do everything, fuck, anything to keep you here. Please.” Jongin is now kneeling in front of you as he clasped your knees, begging you to stay as he sobbed greater than you’ve ever seen him cry before.

“I can’t stay. I love you but I can’t stay. I’d only be fooling the both of us if I stay.” You also kneeled and put your hands on the either sides of his face as you asked his eyes to look back at yours. His handsome, ethereal face already scrunched up from all the crying and screaming. It broke you to see him like this.

You want to forgive him, to forget everything and start anew. But you just couldn’t do it, not right now, not this way when everything just brought you back to the pain.

“Just come back, please. I don’t know what I’ll do without you. I don’t want to live my life without you in it. I don’t want it. Please come back, please.” He was a mess. Jongin is just an apologetic mess in front of you.

“I just need to leave to fix myself. And when I come back, then we’ll fix us. I just can’t be here and hope to fix our marriage when I’m a ruin inside. We should take the time off, reevaluate, maybe miss each other so when we see each other again we’re excited. Damn, I love you too much, Jongin. I don’t want to be away, but we need this.” Your foreheads now rested against each other. It was a blind promise, you don’t know how long healing would take you. But you knew you wanted to come back.

He let you go, physically that is. Jongin even helped you stack your luggages on the back of your car. But he didn’t let you go away without planting a kiss on every visible nook of your face, and without you promising that you’d come back.

Most people would consider you stupid for still wanting to come back, but back when you said in front of all the important people in your life that you were to love Jongin all your life no matter what - you meant it a little bit too much. And he already regretted the poor choices he made, you already saw how broken he could be if he loses you in his life. You’re just two shattered pieces that want to fit together again, but you know that won’t happen if the shattered pieces of your own beings aren’t even fixed.

So maybe when the downfall subsided, when the shrapnels start to fall back into its rightful places, and the heart he so rightfully owned started beating the right rhythm again - you’ll find your way back to him.

#exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo angst #exo scenario #exo #exo imagine #kai #kai fanfic #kai angst #kai imagine #jongin #jongin angst #jongin imagine #jongin fanfic #kim jongin #kai exo #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #angst

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lordsister · 5 years

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Bad Things Come In Threes (Yut-Lung Lee x Reader)

It started that morning.

In an odd stroke of misfortune, your wedding band slipped off your finger and down the drain while you were in the shower. Your distraught cry as you desperately tried to fish it out had Yut-Lung running from the bedroom, ready to defend you with nothing but his bare hands.

When you explained what happened he simply chuckled, relieved that the problem wasn't something more serious, and said that he'd buy you a new one. At your half-hearted glare, he pulled you into him, naked, soaking, and upset, and soothed you the best he could, rubbing circles into the bare skin of your back and whispering sweet comforts in your ear.

Neither you nor he had ever been the kind of people to believe in superstition and he was quick to dismiss the occurrence, but you were obviously upset and a little unsettled. Thumb rubbing the paler, sensitive skin of your ring finger, your mind drifted at the lack of metal. Something didn't feel right and it was more than just the loss of your ring. The hairs on the back of your neck refused to lay flat and the muscles in your shoulders itched with tension.

You tried to shake it off, praying nothing else would happen that day...but the world doesn't always work the way we want it to.

"Do you have to go to work today?" you asked, as Yut-Lung slipped on his shoes and coat. "Whatever you have going on can wait, can't it?"

"I wish it could, but I have some important meetings to attend today," he sighed, bringing you into a hug. "Try not to worry too much, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before he could pull away you cupped his flawless face in your hands and kissed him hard, kissed him as if it would be the last time you kissed him. "Stay safe, okay?"

Leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, his dark eyes gazed into your own as he murmured, "I will." He took a deep breath in and out, the vulnerability on his face something he was willing to show to you alone. "I love you, (y/n)."

It took a massive amount of effort to unknit your furrowed brow and give him a smile. "I love you, too, Yut-Lung."

With a wink thrown over his shoulder, he was gone.

You stared at the door long after it had closed, pressure building in your throat and the sound of its shutting echoing through your mind. Lips barely parting, your next words escaped on a whisper.

"Come back to me..."

Your nervousness refused to abate as the day continued and you forced yourself to continue with your daily life. The slightest, most ordinary sound made you jump and you had to stop yourself from anxiously texting Yut-Lung every hour.

Maybe you were overreacting, but considering the nature of the cruel, underground world you and Yut-Lung lived in you thought your concerns were justified. If anything happened to Yut-Lung....

Your phone rang, startling you from your thoughts and almost making you drop the mug of tea in your hands. For a heartbeat you thought it was Yut-Lung, but looking at the contact you found it was a number you didn't recognize. "Hel-" Your greeting was abruptly cut off as an explosion from outside rocked the floor and made the windows bulge and crack. Tea and shards of ceramic spilled across the floor as your mug fell from the counter. Instinctively dropping low to the ground, you waited for bullets to shatter the windows, for hitmen or kidnappers to invade your home, but no further attack came.

"Are you still alive, Mrs. Lee?" a static-warped voice asked from the phone discarded on the floor nearby, its screen cracked. "There's much more of where that came from awaiting you and your vile family in the future." And the line went dead.

You did your best to appear calm as the guards rushed in, checking you over for injuries and escorting you to a safer location, but you couldn't control the shaking of your clenched fists or the trembling of your lip as the attacker's words ran through your mind.

"There's more of where that came from..."

"Notify my husband of what's happened immediately," you ordered, your firm, steady voice at odds with the mad beating of your heart.

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Lee is being taken to a safe location as we speak."

Nodding, you faced forward, trying to calm your breathing. You desperately wished that Yut-Lung was there with you, but for now it was enough to know that he was safe.

Absentmindedly, your thumb strayed to your ring finger, rubbing the bare, vulnerable skin.

Warning bells blared in your mind. You'd been repeatedly assured that Yut-Lung had reached his destination safely and was under heavy guard, but it did nothing to quiet your growing fears. You needed to see him, to confirm with your own eyes that he was okay. Under direct orders from your husband, you weren't allowed to leave the safehouse you had been taken to, but you couldn't stand this any longer. You could feel it in your bones that something was very wrong, that the two bad occurrences that had taken place that day were about to be joined by a third.

It would be near impossible to sneak away from the guards and they had been given permission to physically restrain you if necessary, but you weren't about to let that stop you. When everything had reasonably settled down and your assigned protectors left you alone for a moment, you ducked away down a shadowed side corridor and stole a car from the garage.

What you were doing was reckless by all means, but you didn't care about the consequences right now. All you cared about was whether the love of your life was truly safe and unharmed.

Even though you were endangering yourself for the sake of a hunch, you prayed that you were wrong, prayed that everything was fine and that you were just going crazy. And as you approached the safehouse Yut-Lung was supposed to have been taken to, everything did seem fine, but you really should've known better.

A bullet hit one of your front tires just as half of the building before you exploded into flame. More bullets peppered the side of the vehicle, bouncing off of the reinforced glass as you tried to maintain control and managed to crash just behind the side of the building the wasn't currently burning. The car door opened and you recognized the Lee family's guards as you were unceremoniously dragged out of your seat and towards a side entrance. People were shouting and running around in disorder as you were practically carried down the hall. A gunshot sounded somewhere close by and your cheek stung, the guard that had been pulling you along dropping to the ground with a sickening thud.

Refusing to succumb to shock for even a heartbeat, you bolted, racing down in the hall in a mad dash for survival. You had barely rounded the corner before gunfire filled the previous hallway and you forced yourself to move faster.

Panic-filled moments went by and your heart beat painfully in your chest as you burst through the first door you saw, hoping that whoever was on the other side was a friend. Guns turned in your direction and a shout came to hold fire, but you didn't hear it over the roar in your ears, relief weakening your knees at the sight of the man before you. Blood seeped down your face from the graze on your cheek, mixing with tears, but you didn't care as you threw yourself into Yut-Lung's arms.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing here?!" he said harshly, his arms tight around you. You could tell he was angry, but it was an anger borne out of concern for your safety. "Why didn't you stay where it was safe?!"

"Sir! We've received word that the other safehouse has been attacked as well! And the teams that were deployed in the east wing have been overrun!"

"What?!"

A nearby explosion made the floor tremble and a protective arm wrapped around your waist as Yut-Lung pushed you behind him.

"We need to leave, now! Send word to fall back!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Goddamnit!" You heard your husband growl out from between clenched teeth as he ushered you towards the door, guards falling into formation around the two of you. The door opened and you were hustled out into the chaos, the sounds of combat and men in agony loud and relentless as the company turned a corner towards the back of the building and the bullet-proof vehicles parked there.

Men dropped, dead and dying, around you, but you forced yourself to keep moving, facing straight ahead and counting the steps until you and your loved one reached safety.

The two of you were close, oh so close, to making it out unscathed, but a third event to join the first two had yet to come and fate wouldn't have it any other way.

Guards covered you and Yut-Lung as you emerged from the safehouse and made your way towards a van. The back doors were opened and your husband's hand refused to leave yours as he pushed you in, following close behind you.

And that's when it happened.

In the heartbeat before Yut-Lung was able to fully get in the van a bullet somehow got through the barricade of guards, hitting the Chinese man directly in his side. If you had to describe what you felt in that moment, it was as if you had been shot too. Blinding emptiness and shock chased by incomparable pain, the kind that tears hearts open in an instant and drives even the most level-headed to madness. You didn't even register the scream that escaped your lips as Yut-Lung fell on top of you, his face twisted in agony. A few more guards jumped into the van, closing the doors and starting the engine. Someone was yelling something about a hospital, but you weren't listening, too focused on the life escaping your love.

What began that morning with the loss of your ring had come full circle.

A sticky warmth seeped through your fingers as you pressed them to your husband's stomach, desperately trying to staunch the blood. Your mind worked in desperate, adrenaline-driven bursts as you realized he wasn't breathing. Screaming for help, you started chest compressions, alternating between pressing on his abdomen and giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

"Stay with me, Yut-Lung."

1...2...3...compressions and you pressed your mouth to his, breathing air into his lungs.

"Stay with me, my love."

1...2...3...more compressions and the process began again.

"Please, don't leave me!"

1......2......3......

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing this quite a bit. Banana Fish took my heart, lit it on fire, and threw it under a bus.XD

I do not own Banana Fish or any of its characters. The plot, however, does belong to me.

Thank you for reading~!!!

#banana fish #banana fish x reader #banana fish fanfiction #anime fanfiction #fanfiction #romance #angst #established relationship #anime x reader #yut-lung lee #yut-lung #yut-lung lee x reader #yut-lung x reader #x reader #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfics #oneshot

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helaintoloki · 5 years

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another day to find you {p.p}

pairings: Peter Parker x reader

warnings: violence, death, angst, sad peter

notes: hi I’m so sorry that so far my writing has been mostly angst ajsbsbsba but i promise I’ll try to lighten it up a bit!!! also peter and the reader are older in this like college age. anyway enjoy!

it was raining lightly when peter parker’s alarm went off, signaling that it was time to start another day. he had difficulty climbing out of bed that morning, but nowadays that seemed to be the norm for the teenage boy. he hardly slept at all, and the scarce hours of sleep he did receive were always cut short by something, whether it be by may or his alarm or his phone going off with about twenty messages from michelle. he never bothered to answer them anymore.

slowly, the boy rose from his disheveled sheets and slipped on a hooded sweater along with a random pair of jeans that had been discarded on the floor. he didn’t bother to brush his hair but he did attempt to brush his teeth and wash his face clean of the dirt and oil that had collected over night. quietly, he slipped on a pair of sneakers and grabbed his house keys from his dresser. he tried to be as silent as possible in order to not wake may. it was still around five in the morning, the sun had not risen fully yet and he wanted to make sure his aunt got just enough sleep before she had to start her own day. he always left early to visit his girlfriend.

the rain did not cease. rather, it seemed to pour harder and harder, pounding relentlessly against peter’s umbrella. in his free hand was a soaked bouquet of sunflowers: her favorite. he was close to his destination. the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and peter hurried his steps. he wanted to be there before sunrise in order to share the view with her. she always loved waking up extra early to bundle herself into his arms and watch the beauty before her. ironically, she was never a morning person, but she made an exception for peter. a pained smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reminisced on your times together.

it was promptly five thirty when he reached her grave. the array of different flowers and bouquets were drenched in rain water along with the balloons tied down to the flower stems. cautiously, peter rested the umbrella over her tombstone, allowing it shelter from the rain.

“don’t want you to get wet,” he murmured quietly, kneeling down to rest the sunflowers on the fresh patch of grass that had been laid down over the dirt used to bury her grave. it had only been a month, but just like the new grass, the wounds peter felt were still fresh in his heart.

it didn’t take long for him to grow soaking wet, but he couldn’t care less. seeing her name etched across the tomb stone along with the simple quote “she’s waiting there for you” made him feel that he deserved it. a soft breeze that seemingly came out of nowhere chilled his bones, and peter smiled weakly.

“yeah...” he nodded. “yeah, i know. i’m gonna get sick.” he could hear her voice, scolding him for his antics. he could almost feel her gentle hands wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and her lips placing a soft kiss on his forehead. he shivered.

“god, i miss you,” he trembled, letting a shaky breath blow past his lips as he attempted to hold in his tears. “i just.. why didn’t you stay home like i asked you to, babe? wh- y-you knew... i told you and you- you wouldn’t.. you couldn’t-“

he broke down in tears at the memory, hands balled into tight fists as his body trembled from the impact of his sobs. he was supposed to protect her. it was his job as her boyfriend. to keep her out of harms way and make sure she was as far away from danger as possible. yet he had failed. he had failed and now she was seven feet under, alone in a dark coffin with nothing but the stuffed animal lamb plushie her parents had tucked in with her before she was put to rest. it had been her favorite since birth, and despite it being dirty and rather beaten up, she still slept with it when she was alive. peter remembered. he remembered plenty of times where she refused to sleep without it by her side, and no matter how many times he tried to coax her to sleep he knew y/n would not go down until he retrieved her childhood best friend for her. god, he missed her.

“just... i-i’m so lost without you, y/n,” he weeped. “tell me what to do. t-tell me how this gets better, tell me how i get better. i.. you know i can’t do this without you here. i can’t do it without you... and it’s all my fault.”

~~~~

y/n was asleep when it happened. there was a crash in the living room, causing her to jolt awake in bed. peter was already up and slipping into his suit by the time her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she was able to spot her boyfriend in the room.

“peter?” she whispered, tightly clutching the sheets.

“stay here, baby. i’m gonna go take care of it, okay?” he assured her as he reloaded his web shooters.

“peter,” she whimpered, but he simply kissed her on the forehead and took a moment to admire her face before he had to leave. god, she was gorgeous. he could stare at her for hours.

“just promise me you’ll stay here, y/n. lock the door and don’t open it for anyone unless it’s me or mr. stark.” and with that he was gone, out the door and off to fight the threat that had entered her home.

her bare feet padded quickly against the hardwood as she rushed to shut and lock the door as peter had instructed. she even went as far as to barricade the door with her bedside dresser. normally y/n never felt fearful in situations like these. peter was always able to handle it, and somehow the two of them always made it out okay in the end. but for some reason, today felt different. she felt an uneasy feeling in her gut, a premonition that made itself clear in the sound of her pounding heart.

it didn’t take her long before she had pressed the emergency contact of tony stark on her phone and was anxiously chewing the inside of her cheek as she awaited for his answer. peter had made sure that in case of an emergency where he was not available to protect her, y/n would still have someone to call for help. and luckily she did just that. she told him of the uneasy feeling, of the sound of a crash late into the night. he promised he was on his way, told her to hang tight, and then left her alone in the dark once he hung up.

minutes felt like hours as they slowly passed by. the house was eerily quiet, and she hadn’t heard a single word from stark nor her boyfriend since she last made contact with the two men. her hands shakily clutched the metal baseball bat against her chest, a weapon she always kept close by for instances such as these.

a soft rattle from the living room was enough to bring her to her feet, knuckles turning white as she gripped the handle as tightly as possible. her footsteps were slow and cautious as she backed away from the door, determined to stay as silent as possible. however, her plan failed when she tripped up on the rug beneath her and fell back with a small thud. the floor underneath her creaked and the bat cluttered deafeningly against the hardwood. painful silence filled the house now as she anxious bit her lip, breath ragged and heavy as she awaited for the next move. a small scream escaped her lips as harsh banging sounded against the door. the action was enough for her to quickly open the window and crawl down the fire escape of their apartment.

it didn’t matter to her that her feet were bare and all she wore were pajama shorts and a rather faded iron man shirt. what mattered was getting as far away from the apartment as possible, even if it meant disobeying peter’s wishes. her fingers flew across the screen of her phone as she repeatedly tried to contact her boyfriend. she never got an answer. she sent another text to stark, only for it to fail to send through. she was alone. completely and utterly alone and defenseless. may’s apartment building was a few blocks away. she wasn’t sure if she could make it. she was already in danger, but the streets of queens at this time of night did not improve her situation any better. in fact, she was even more vulnerable, especially in the clothes she was wearing.

she never made it to may’s, of course. instead, she was hoisted into the air and held tightly in the grips of a masked villain, one she did not recognize and certainly one she did not recall being described by peter. unbeknownst to her, spider-man was right on their tail, scared shitless at the fact that his girlfriend was caught up in the mess. her life was at stake, and with his spidey senses sending waves of tingles along his skin, he knew this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted it to. someone was going to get hurt. he never thought it would be her.

you see, taking down the bag guy is usually easy, or at least it had been so far for peter. especially when you can swing from building to building in order to keep up with a guy that can fly on a hover board. however, it isn’t easy to catch your girlfriend while one hand is gripping tightly onto the web holding you up and the other is shooting at the bad guy. already, he had a late start. but it didn’t take long before he was diving down, shooting a web to catch her and clinging himself onto the side of a building for support. he did, just barely. the web attached itself to her index, middle, and ring finger. she was hanging by a thread, but she was still alive, still safe.

“peter,” she cried breathlessly, not daring to look down at the ground below her. slowly, he began to hoist her up into his grasp. it had been a close call for sure, but he had caught her, and now she was only inches away from his grasp. inches away until he was able to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, kiss her all over and slightly scold her for not staying at home and then declaring how glad he was she was okay. but he called it too soon.

his spidey sense hadn’t detected the villain slowly rising from his position in the rubble on the ground. his spidey sense didn’t catch him slowly pulling out small throwing disk. and by the time his spidey sense was able to pick up on the hurdling weapon that was unsheathing its knives from its center he was too late. it was a perfect shot, able to slice through the inch long strand of webbing that was keeping them glued together. yet, with a quick slice and a loud scream from the girl she was plummeting down again. he fired desperately, only to realize he was out of web fluid, and by the time he tried to use his other shooter it was too late. he couldn’t do anything but watch as she hit the ground with a loud thud. her body was sprawled out like a dysfunctional barbie doll left carelessly behind by a child, except barbies didn’t bleed.

he slowly lowered himself onto the ground, scared to face the harsh reality that waited for him.

“y/n/n?” he croaked, falling to his knees beside her. he gently lifted her from the ground so her head rested on his lap, afraid she’d break from the touch. but she was already broken, any more damage would have no affect on her now lifeless body. her head lulled to the side, no longer supported by her neck which had snapped when she hit the ground. blood oozed out of her nose and from between her cold lips, slowly dribbling down her chin and onto her tee shirt. gently, peter leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“it’s okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “i’ve got you.. i- no ones gonna hurt you ever again, i promise. i swear- i swear it on my life i’m going to keep you alive.”

~~~

the funeral had been beautiful, the dark colors of black contrasting with the bright sunflowers y/n was buried with. she looked like an angel in her casket, and if peter tried hard enough he was able to pretend she was only sleeping. only sleeping. that whole day went by in what seemed like a flash, and soon after peter had found himself lazily picking at his thai food, the numbness in his body stronger than ever.

“peter? honey, you haven’t touched your food,” may had stated softly, gently resting her hand on top of his own.

“y/n hated thai food,” peter mumbled quietly, and may held his hand a little tighter.

but that was three months ago, and still peter felt no change within. he hardly ever found himself out on patrol, too unbothered to even get out of bed most days. if he couldn’t save the one he loved, then how could he save the whole city? things hadn’t seemed to get any easier, and as peter crouched beside her grave, he knew they never would.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n,” he murmured quietly, pressing his lips against the cool marble of her grave. and suddenly, the rain stopped.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #spiderman #marvel #mcu

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serenzippity · 5 years

Text

Cold War

Words: 5,328 Member/Pairing: Monsta X, Shownu/OC, Jooheon/OC, Minhyuk/Hyungwon, Kihyun/I.M Genre: Alternative Universe, inspired by “All In” Warning(s): Violence, language

Book One - Chapter Two

July 18th, 2018

When the sun came up Mina was gone. A note was left on my door, simply saying she went to training early. There was nothing else, just words on a dirty piece of paper. I knew I deserved the cold morning alone and I felt horrible for hurting my little sister, but I didn’t regret my actions. I needed to keep her away from Jooheon and his secretive lifestyle, and if I have to resort to violence then so be it.

I pushed everything back into my dark subconsciousness, telling myself that I didn’t have the luxury to get emotional. I had to support us and in order to do that, I had to continue on with my day as if nothing was wrong. I promised myself to make amends after closing, relegating my sister’s heart to the back-burner.

Such was the way our society functions. All work, no emotions. Everything for the Jeongs.

Waking up and taking my time to get ready, I ventured off into the meager schedule that the regime has set for me. Every day was monotonous; wake up, work, sleep. There was no divergence. No matter what I did, even if I continued to train like my sister and didn’t take over my father’s shop, I knew that I would be stuck in this routine. My only respite was my nightly illegal activities, and even those were beginning to blur together.

Opening up and beginning my chores, I wondered if there would ever be some kind of break from the gray. The thought came and went, flittering away like a leaf in a windstorm. I scolded myself for the wishful thinking and continued to get the restaurant ready for the opening lunch rush.

The day went by with unusual busyness, but I was thankful for the rushes of people who kept me moving rather than thinking. I was honed in on my job, not letting up my quick pace as I helped customer after customer. Mina didn’t come in for her shift, but I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Normally I would have scolded her, but I figured I could give her a break after the trauma from the night before. I only thought about her for a minute or two before more and more customers packed into my tiny restaurant.

I didn’t notice the changing of the sky nor the odd bitter cold of the night as it crept up on our village. By the time I was able to take a breath and sit down it was already pitch black outside. Only two customers remained when I took a seat at a barstool, and I mentally noted the things I’d have to do before closing up. Dishes were piled high, the floor was dirty, and some tables needed to be cleaned off. All in all, I knew that without the extra help from Mina I was going to be in for a long night.

It was well past 10 PM by the time I was able to stick my key in the door and lock up the store. Everything hurt and I was completely drained of all energy. I wasn’t looking forward to the trek home, but the siren song of my bed was calling to me.

“Hey!” called a sharp voice behind me, causing me to jump nearly a foot in the air. I turned around to see three soldiers looking at me with glazed eyes. They were dressed in their uniforms, all of which showed that they were no one of significance, and had their weapons still strapped on. All of them were swaying like branches and I could vaguely smell the strong bite of vodka when a small breeze wafted through. “Are ya still open for business?”

‘Drunk,’ I thought, holding on to my keys tightly with one hand and slowly reaching under my sleeve for the knife that was always strapped to my forearm. “I’m sorry gentlemen, but no. I’m closing up right now.”

The leader of the trio, and arguably the drunkest, took a step forward and gave me a lecherous smile. “Come on sweetheart. We’re just looking for some food and good company.” His grin was wide and menacing, the lusty glint behind his eyes giving away the double meaning.

“I’m sorry, but we are closed.” My tone was short as I tried to walk away from them, but before I could take a step the leader reached out to grip my arm tightly.

Pulling me to him, I tried to resist his grip but that only seemed to make him tug harder. I was brought into his chest, smelling the foul stench of his body odor and vodka. “Where are you going beautiful? You’re really going to turn down three of the Governor’s finest?”

“Let go of me!” I yelled, trying to push him away. I didn’t want to resort to violence because I knew the repercussions of assaulting a soldier was immediate death, but my fighting instinct began to take over. He gripped me tighter, his other hand reaching down to grab my waist roughly. Struggling, I was able to pull my knife out of its sheath and bring it up to glint in the moonlight.

“Knife!” one of them screamed before I felt a blunt force hit the side of my head and everything went black.

-x-

July 19th, 2018

“She shouldn’t be here.”

“Shut up man. What did you want us to do? Leave her there? They were about to-“

“I know what they were about to do, but we couldn’t risk taking her home.”

“Isn’t she the one who threw the knife at your head?”

“It hit my shirt, not my head.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Shut up.”

I wanted all the voices to stop talking.

My head was pounding behind my closed eyes and I felt like I had iron weights all over my body. There was dull flickering in front of my eyelids and the cacophony of voices thudded against my eardrums. The soreness of my bones only made me feel worse, and a low groan escaped me when I tried to move my arm.

“Oh shit, she’s awake.”

The voice sounded close, too close. The realization that I was hearing a mans voice had the memories of the three soldiers coming back in roaring clarity. Adrenaline began to course through my veins as I vaguely realized that the bed I was on felt unfamiliar and the room smelled like trees rather than cotton like my bedroom. Everything felt wrong, and I got up with a start in an attempt to protect myself.

I was met with wide brown eyes and before they could react they had a knife to their neck. My assailants had failed to remove the dagger from my boot and I used it to my advantage. The boy fell back taking me with him. With a dull thud, I was hovering over him with a snarl on my face. The metal was pushed against his throat and he swallowed at the cold bite.

“Jae!” a familiar voice called, but I was too focused on the boy underneath me. He was youthful and handsome, someone that I would have swooned over when I was younger. His pouty lips were parted and fear was etched over every crevice of his face. He was trembling under my hand, but I only pressed down harder. “JAE!” the voice cried out again and I snapped out of my dark reverie at the recognizable deep tone.

Looking up from the boy I was attacking, I was met with four unfamiliar boys and two annoyingly familiar ones. “Changkyun?” I questioned, looking at the shocked younger man. “Jooheon?” The last one came out as more of a growl rather than an inquiry as I met the angry eyes of the boy I previously attacked.

“Get off of him,” Jooheon snarled, meeting my gaze head on and not backing down. Never breaking eye contact I released the boy underneath me, hearing his gasps for air as I relinquish the knife and moved back from his chest. He scrambled away, falling into the arms of a boy with stark white hair.

I continued to stare at Jooheon with malice as the two began to whisper hushed things to each other. Each second that passed brought forth the pounding behind my eyes once more. The adrenaline that rushed through me began to dissipate and I fell back onto the mattress. I was weary and tired again, everything beginning to drain from me except for anger and confusion.

“Where am I?” I asked, still in an intense staredown with the bane of my existence.

“Our hideout,” Jooheon said, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a more aggressive stance. “Hyunwoo and I-” he said nodding his head to the man next to him with tan skin and dark hair, “-were walking by when we saw you.”

I winced at his words, the pounding coming harder as I remembered three evil smiles and the smell of vodka. “What did you see?” I grimaced at the question, and Jooheon’s hostile stance faltered a bit at my vulnerable question. I could see his mind working overtime, attempting to put together a response.

“We saw what they were about to do to you,” Hyunwoo said, commanding my attention and making me feel small all at once. He exuded an air of authority and I noted his toned physique. “You’re lucky we got there in time.”

“Lucky,” I snorted at the poor choice of words. “That’s one way to put it.”

“You’re lucky they were walking by at the time. If this is your thanks they should have left you there.” The biting words came from another blonde man who stood off to the right of Hyunwoo. He was burning with fury as he looked at me. The air around him was fiery and hateful, matching the dark glare on his otherwise beautiful face. He was bigger than Hyunwoo body-wise, the muscles under his shirt flexing as he practically threw venom at me.

“And who are you?” I asked meeting him evenly, not letting his combative tone or body language intimidate me. The bored tone in my voice had him glowering even more and I smirked at the rise I was able to get from him.

“That’s Hoseok,” Hyunwoo said turning to look at the mentioned man. He gave him a nasty look before continuing on. “Minhyuk and Hyungwon,” he said gesturing to the white-haired boy and the one I assaulted. They both gave me blank looks as they huddled together on a chair in the corner of the room. “That’s Kihyun,” he said pointing to a boy I didn’t notice in another far corner. This one had light brown hair and an angelic face. But what caught my eye was the crutches that were thrown across his lap. He was looking at me with apprehension, taking in the scene silently. “And you know Changkyun and Jooheon.”

I looked at the younger boy with a small smirk, taking in his flustered face. “We’ve met.” I roamed over the seven of them, all of which looked dirty and worn but nonetheless handsome. They all were passing faces in the village, and I was positive that they had all at one point been a customer. All except for Hoseok. He was the more unfamiliar looking one.

“When can I leave? I need to make sure Mina is okay.” Jooheon’s face softened at the mention of my sister and I immediately glowered at his expression.

“Haeun is with Mina. I sent her there with your watch when we found you,” Hyunwoo said, the power rolling off of him in waves.

“Who’s Haeun?” I asked the older boy.

He gave me a small smile and raised his left hand, the small band on his finger shining in the sunlight. “My fiancee. She’s a nurse with Mina.” I nodded at him, slightly relieved that Mina was semi-protected in my absence and that my tracker wasn’t showing my position. “As for leaving, you’ll have to wait for nightfall. It’s easier to sneak past the patrols then.”

I nodded again. I knew that I would be able to get back into the village via my tunnel, but I didn’t know these men and I wasn’t willing to give them knowledge of one of my greatest secrets. I kept my mouth shut, silently agreeing to do things their way for the time being. Jooheon looked at me wearily, not believing my total compliance. The rest of them were giving me looks of malice or curiosity, Changkyun being the only one to have even a small semblance of a smile on his face.

“Would you like a tour?” he asked almost eagerly, causing a smile to break through the hardness of my face. There was something about him that gave me a sense of warmth. He vaguely reminded me of a younger, more carefree Mina and I chalked that up to my growing soft spot for him.

Hoseok wasn’t keen on the idea, turning on the younger boy and grabbing the back of his neck. The latter scrunched up in pain at the grip, the smile long gone. “No, she would not,” he growled out, blazing at the younger boy and turning the air in the room tense.

I shot up at his combative attack on Changkyun, a small voice in the back of my mind telling me to stand up for the younger boy. “You don’t speak for me,” I said with equal bitterness at the back of his blond head.

He let go of Changkyun and turned to look at me, the inferno in his brown eyes blazing like a wildfire. His cheeks were flushed and his hands were grasped in tight fists. “You’re not even supposed to be here,” the words came out through clenched teeth, hissing poison in my direction. “I don’t want you anywhere in my compound.” The hatred that he sent my way was alarming, but I kept my usual stoic facade. I wasn’t going to let some man get in my way, let alone a blonde muscle head who seemed to have a personal vendetta against me.

He was fire, but I was ice.

“Changkyun,” I said in a sickly sweet tone, a smirk lighting up my face when the boy glanced around Hoseok with a sheepish look. “I’d love a tour of the compound.” I walked around Hoseok quickly and came to Changkyun’s side. The movement caused pain to shoot up and down my face, but I was too invested in the exchange to notice it. Looping my arm through his, I gave him a soft smile that seemed to melt the fear off his face.

“I forbid it,” Hoseok threatened. “Changkyun don’t you dare. As your hyung-,”

“As your ‘club’s’ arms dealer,” I said with a sharp tone, quickly cutting him off before he could pull the age card over Changkyun. “I forbid you to forbid him.” Honorifics were never used anymore under the Jeong regime unless they were to a high ranking member of the government. Hoseok’s attempts to intimidate Changkyun on the basis of age immediately irritated me to the highest degree.

He looked pissed. For a moment I thought he was going to get physical with me based on how angry his face became. However, he turned and looked to the others for backup. They all were either pointedly ignoring the exchange or watching with strong interest. When no one spoke up, he turned back to Changkyun and me with red cheeks. He began to open his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out I dragged Changkyun out of the room with a dark laugh in his direction.

Opening the door, I glanced back to see the pure fury in Hoseok’s brown eyes before I slammed it on his fuming face.

-x-

Changkyun ended up giving me the most in-depth and comprehensive tour of their compound, to the point that I actually had to tell him to slow his role. He was excitable and borderline adorable as he chattered off about the structure of the rather impressive warehouse. From top to bottom he explained how they were able to ward off patrols and wandering soldiers.

The compound was surprisingly large, consisting of three floors of which two were occupied by the boys. The bottom floor was left barren and crumbling so as to give the impression of abandonment. However, the top two floors were all furnished and occupied by the X-Clan, each member having a room that surrounded a common area. Meeting like a club at least three times a week was their norm and they were all akin to brothers in their makeshift house.

“What do you all meet for?”

That was the question that made Changkyun grow silent. He didn’t give me an answer, rather choosing to dance around the topic with what I could tell was skilled practice. Jooheon bought supplies and weapons from me for this group so I knew they were beyond some friends meeting up for trouble. Nonetheless, at Changkyun’s flighty answer I let it go, choosing to revisit the topic at a later time.

He also ran down the list of the guys and told me a small part of their backstories. Hyunwoo was a baker in town and the oldest out of the seven. The rich could afford his fresh goods, thus making him a high-commodity to the bourgeois of the village, particularly the local Governor himself. He was engaged to Haeun— Kihyun’s sister and a nurse who worked with Mina during her trainee shifts— and he was head over heels for her. The way that Changkyun spoke about them made me smile. It was sweet, for lack of a better word, the way he described the relationship with a tinge of longing in his voice.

He moved onto Hyungwon, and the moment his name left Changkyun’s lips I was able to put two and two together.

“Chae? As in Dr. Chae? The bastard head doctor?” I growled out the name with venom dripping from every word. He was a horrible man, prone to violence and anger, often refusing to help the sick and needy just because of their social status. He kissed the ass of the Jeong regime and ran the hospital like a place of fear rather than healing.

“Yes, as in Dr. Chae. Hyungwon is his son.” Changkyun went on to vouch for the son of that horrible man. A medical trainee per his father’s demands, Hyungwon was a rather shy person who would patch them up if they got into any problems. He was the one who kept the wild boys calm and kept them from doing anything too reckless.

“And how does Dr. Chae feel about Hyungwon’s relationship?” I asked, cutting Changkyun off mid-rant about how sweet of a person the youngest Chae was.

“R-relationship?” he asked, choking out the words and giving me wide eyes full of surprise.

I couldn’t help but laugh at him, my tender spot for him growing with every flustered look on his face. “I’m not stupid or blind, Kyun,” he blushed hard at the nickname. “I saw him and the other boy, what was his name? Minhyuk?” Changkyun kept stuttering, clearly shocked that I knew something that I guessed was a well-kept secret amongst the clan. He was getting redder by the second, and I a relented on my torture of the poor boy. Giving him a soft smile, I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him a calm smile. “I won’t say anything. I think it’s actually kind of cute.”

He visibly relaxed under my touch and promise, a small smirk coming onto his youthful face. “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary.”

I let out a loud laugh at his cheekiness and I knew that the younger boy was going to give me a lot of headaches in the future. “Watch it, kid,” I said, tapping his nose and beckoning him to continue my impromptu tour.

He went on to tell me about Kihyun, blushing all the while. I didn’t say anything about the tinge on his cheeks while he spoke about the handsome, crippled boy but I didn’t miss the sparkling eyes and breathless words. He was a political trainee like Changkyun, but an accidentally discharged bullet ended his career and the lives of his family. Lodging into a gas reserve in his family’s humble home, Kihyun’s life went up in flames and he was the only survivor of the blaze. Haeun had, thankfully, already moved in with Shownu. He was no longer able to support himself, so he turned to his friends and sister as they welcomed him with open arms despite the injuries to his legs.

When he told me that a small part of me began to look at them in a different light. There was something underneath the hard, dirty exteriors.

“And you know Jooheon,” he said laughing, moving down the list.

“Unfortunately.”

He moved onto Minhyuk and the role he played in all of this. His parents are doctors under Dr. Chae and neglectful, pressuring him into becoming a medical trainee which is where he met Hyungwon. Despite his bright and loving personality, the boy had a dark past. His older brother left the family when he was 18, refusing to adhere to the strict outline of society and thus becoming a fugitive. Minhyuk then became the priory of his family, turning to his friends and Hyungwon along the way to escape the pressure.

“Who’s his brother?” I asked, curious if I went to primary school with him.

Changkyun only gave me a meek smile, shuffling his feet and looking everywhere except for at my face. “Hoseok,” he whispered, kicking a stray pebble with the toe of his boot.

My mouth dropped. Changkyun described the boy as being a ray of light. Someone that you could turn to in a time of need or if you just wanted to talk. From my limited interactions, and based on what Changkyun told me, Minhyuk hardly seemed like the kin of the brutish older man.

“Hoseok is his brother? How the hell did that happen?” I was in shock, but the more I thought about it their hair was a very similar shade and they both had jawlines that could make a school girl swoon.

“Hoseok…” Changkyun said hesitantly, picking his words carefully. “He’s hard to explain. Out of all of us, he is the one that I know the least about, except for the fact that he is Min’s brother and one of Jooheon’s old friends.”

“Secretive bastard huh?” I asked, trying to alleviate the tension that seemed to resonate with the mere mention of the man. Changkyun gave me a weak nod, his lips curling up slightly.

“Enough about him,” I said, linking my arm with his in attempt to defuse the static, “Tell me about you Kyun.”

-x-

Changkyun and I talked for hours, and somewhere along the way, his deep yet kind voice lulled me to sleep. Chalking my tiredness up to my head-wound I let my head fall back onto a dingy couch in the compounds common area. I slept fitfully and by the time I woke up, it was pitch black.

Sitting up from the couch I listened to the sounds of the night. There was no shuffling, no hushed voices, nothing to indicate that any human being was within the vicinity. The only indicator that I didn’t dream up the whole interaction with the X-Clan was my folded jacket at the foot of the couch and a note that told me that they all went home and how to get back to the village.

The messy instructions only piqued my curiosity, and I let my more intrusive parts get the best of me.

Did they think I was dumb? The rest could have gone back to their respective homes but from what Changkyun told me about the members Hoseok and Kihyun were unable to go anywhere besides the compound. What was the point of saying that they all went home?

In addition, I realized I was finally alone. This granted me the opportunity to snoop around and figure out what the X-Clan truly was. Jooheon bought up most of my weapons collection as well as supplies that indicated a need for survival rather than a need to meet up with friends to forget the regime for a day.

I was worried, inquisitive, and a little bit annoyed, but with sly movements, I got up and made my way around the compound. Silent as I could be I flunked around to each room with the goal of finding one or more of the boys. I went from room to room, feeling more and more irritated at their perceived secrecy. Once more I asked, what’s the point? They weren’t an ordinary club and they couldn’t pull the wool over my eyes to convince me otherwise. I was their damn dealer. I knew better.

Nosing around in each room was useless in the end. The compound was dark and hard to navigate without knowing where to switch on the electricity. Trying my hardest I only came across bare bedrooms and messes that were clearly made by young men. Working my way from the second floor up, I scoured the rooms on the third floor with equal amounts of earnest and blindness.

It was a locked door that made my arms twitch in prying want. A part of me needed to see what was behind the rotting wood, but the more rational part of me was screaming to move on. Shaking the handle a few more times proved to be futile and eventually, the rational side won. I took a mental note as to the location of the door to the third-floor common area and I moved on.

I ran a frustrated hand through my dark hair and looked around the darkness futilely. I resigned myself to defeat, cursing these dumb boys for their executed attempts at secrecy. I made my way back, grabbing my threadbare jacket and venturing down the hidden staircase that Changkyun showed me hours before.

Walking out of the barren main level was almost strange. It was weird seeing the forest surrounding the village bathed in moonlight. The trees looked welcoming and the leaves sparkled like diamonds. It was a beautiful change from the grey, dullness of the village and our lives.

Standing in the threshold of the compound I took a deep breath of the cool air and began my trek home. I made it only a few steps before a footpath caught my attention. The grass was flattened and yellow, showing signs of long-term use. Branches were cracked out of the way as it wound into the deep trees, and immediately my interest was raging once more.

Taking silent steps down the worn path was easy as I walked deeper into the forest. I kept my ears open for any potential patrols, but I was only met with the silence of the night and the occasional chirp of a cricket. The footpath went on for about half a mile before ending at the base of a large rock wall. The ominous cliff was easily ten feet high and wide, taking up the space of what would be a large clearing and blocking out the moon, casting the area in total darkness.

The area was too dark to see anything clearly and I almost gave up on my hunt until I saw a small glimmer cut through the black. To the right of the wall was a large thicket, and beyond that was a small twinkle that seemed to beckon to me. It winked and teased, and before my rational side could do anything I was walking towards the light.

Pushing past branches, I saw the outline of what looked like a small house. There was a singular electric lamp resting on the ground near the entrance, illuminating the dilapidated walls and rotting wood.

I moved closer and realized that it wasn’t a house at all, rather it was a large greenhouse. It looked identical to those used in the small farms on the edge of the village, and through the broken slats and glass, I could see a faint blue glow. Creeping quietly up to the door, I pushed it open and winced at the slight creak it gave out. I peaked around the wood and my throat closed at the sight.

There was no barrier between my line of sight and the congregation in the middle of the floor. All seven of the boys sat on overturned boxes, surrounded by hundreds of eerie blue flowers that seemed to radiate. They circled a table and at the head, Jooheon was waving his hands around as if conducting a symphony. Blue smoke wafted over their heads and each one was acting in a way that sent a twinge of genuine fear down my spine. Hyunwoo was laughing maniacally while Hoseok was twitching uncontrollably. Across from him Hyungwon and Minhyuk were in the midst of a passionate embrace while my sweet Changkyun was having dark black paint put on his face by Kihyun. All of them were chanting and singing as if in some ritual and Jooheon was the ringleader.

I was terrified and shocked at the display. The whole thing was confusing and a million questions rushed through my head but only one word stood out: run.

And so I did.

Slamming the door shut loudly I moved through the darkness. The images of blue flowers and hypnotized boys swam behind my eyes as I ran through the forest. I vaguely heard footsteps pounding behind me, but I had too much of a head start for them to catch me. Branches grabbed at my skin and hair, leaving deep and bloody imprints on my arms and face. I barely registered the pain as I wove through trees and worked my way back to a familiar part of the forest.

I ran for what felt like hours. My thighs and lungs were burning but I couldn’t stop. The adrenaline was pushing me further and harder, holding onto hope that I would outrun the person chasing me.

Soon I found myself in a familiar clearing and I thanked whatever higher power was looking down on me. The footfalls behind grew louder, but this area was my territory and I knew how to hide from them. The entrance to my tunnel was fast approaching and I felt a quick stab of adrenaline pull me towards the entrance.

When the hidden door came into view I let out a loud cry of pain and pushed my aching body the last few steps. The last burst of adrenaline went as fast as it came and I felt pain agonize my every being. With heaving breaths and shaky fingers, I punched in the code and it unlocked with a slow hiss.

My hunter got closer, and for the first time that night I turned around to look at who was chasing me. Yards separated me and burning brown eyes. Hoseok’s messy blonde hair was sticking out through his hood and I could see the white skin on his chest through the open zip. He was looking at me with pure hatred as his feet moved across the forest floor. He got closer and closer but I slipped into the tunnel quickly, slamming the door in his face for a second time today.

A/N: Yay chapter two! Thank you as always @prinzelee for being my beta. The next chapter is long so it may take a bit longer to get out. Be prepared for the onslaught of the flower 🖤

#monsta x #monsta x fanfic #monsta x smut #monsta x au #monsta x angst #x-clan #monsta x all in #shownu #hyunwoo #wonho #hoseok #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #i.m #changkyun

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cleighwrites · 5 years

Text

Sucker Love

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Sociopath!Sam x serial killer!Dean

Summary - Sam and Dean were raised drifting from town to town, left to their own devices regularly by their father who left them to hunt and kill monsters. Little did he know that he was raising two monsters himself. In his own way, Sam is in love with his brother, who has his own ways of dealing with their life. John starts to act suspicious of Sam, but Sam isn’t about to let anything come between his brother and him, not even their own, worthless, father.

Word Count - 1,397

A/N - Beta’d by the amazeballz @impala-dreamer. This part fills my Dark Fic square on my @spnkinkbingo card.

Warnings - sociopathic tendencies, incestual feelings, murders, audio-voyeurism, pseudo underage (Sam is 16, no sex...yet)

~Sucker love is using someone for sex until you get bored of them~

“Sucker love a box I choose

No other box I choose to use

Another love I would abuse

No circumstances could excuse” - Placebo, Every You Every Me

“Mmm, yes, Dean. Yes!” the slut screamed from the other side of the door.

Dean had kicked Sam out about forty-five minutes ago so he could ride their current town's bicycle. Sam had brought his science book outside with him to work on his homework, but he didn't make it past their motel room's window before he stopped and sat down. As jealous as he was of all the girls Dean fucked, he could never pass up an opportunity to hear the moans and grunts of his big brother as he came inside of them. Sam was a romantic like that.

Dean was his first kiss, for educational purposes only, of course. Dean was the first one, other than himself, to jerk him off. As far as Sam was concerned, Dean really was the only one. The only one that mattered anyway.

Their father had started to get suspicious of their time spent alone together. Maybe he had caught Sam staring one too many times as Dean would be getting dressed after a shower, or maybe he had woken up to Sam wrapped around Dean as they slept. None of that bothered Sam, but the way their dad would fight with him was becoming an issue.

Dean, ever the obedient little soldier-boy, would do whatever it took to appease the man, but would try to keep them from fighting. Sam was never quite able to put anything before his brother, which had grown to include their predominantly absentee father.

“Sam's old enough to stay on his own now; you should be coming with me. Help me on this hunt.” John had been looking directly at Sam the entire time he was talking to Dean.

“Dad, he's still in school, people will notice if he's living by himself in a motel room,” Dean had argued.

John had only glanced at Dean before fixing his gaze back on Sam. Sam gave as good as he got, his glare never wavering, nor the smirk that accompanied it.

“It's just a salt and burn, you don't need me anyways,” Dean had added in an attempt to break the mounting tension in the room.

John couldn't argue that, so he placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye as he delivered his warning, “Watch out for Sammy.” Then he was gone.

That had been two days ago. Dean had been a little more distant than usual with Sam after their dad left this time. He slept in the other bed, closed the door to a crack when he showered, and didn't hack the TV to pick up porn their first night alone like he typically did. Their dad had put a rift between them; Sam had to fix it before it was too late and he lost Dean for good.

The sound of choking called Sam's attention back into the room and his dick stood at attention as he strained to hear the struggle he knew was going on. The scrape of nails on the cheap motel sheets, the soft drumming of fists on hard, toned skin, the final grunt of Dean's orgasm, and finally, the limp thump of a lifeless arm on the mattress.

Knowing it was safe for him to reenter the room, Sam folded his papers and pencil into his book and stood. Before he could open the door he heard the water running, then the unmistakable sound of the Impala down the street.

Sam burst into the hotel room, holding back his scream, “Dean!”

“Sammy, what the-” he stopped himself, listening.

“Dad,” Sam hissed, turning to the bed to find the bicycle laying haphazardly across the mattress, arms splayed out, legs still spread open. “Dammit, Dean.”

Dean's face went chalk-white as he stared at Sam, eyes as wide as saucers. “Fuck, Sammy.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the girl's body. “Fuck!”

The Impala pulled into the parking lot and Sam sprung into action. He ran to the bed, picking the slut's clothes up as he went, throwing them on top of the girl before pulling the discarded comforter over her and turning her head on the pillow; she could be sleeping.

Dean's eyes looked like his heart was going to break, just like his voice did, “Sammy.”

There wasn't time for anything else as the motel room door swung open and their father stepped in. Dean stood ramrod straight, wide eyes glued to his commander. Sam had taken a seat in one of the chairs at the table and opened his book back up to where his homework was still waiting to be finished.

John's eyes scanned the room and landed on the girl tucked into his own bed. “You boys have a party while I was out?” He leveled his gaze on Dean.

Dean tried for a guilty grin, but failed miserably. “I met her down playing pool last night.” Truth, “We didn't get a lot of sleep; I didn't have the heart to wake her up.” Lie.

“Yeah, well, you should know better than to do that sort of shit with Sammy around.” John took a step toward the bed and Dean shot a panicked look to Sam.

“I'm sixteen, not twelve. It's not like I've never seen boobs before,” Sam sneered, succeeding in drawing their father’s attention away from the fresh corpse.

“That's not the point.” John's voice was hard, and his eyes dangerous when they turned on Sam.

“Dad,” Dean interjected, as always trying to take the brunt away from Sam, which unfortunately, was becoming a regular occurrence.

“What are you even doing here, need a shower before you hit the bar?” Sam was seething, matching John's tone.

“You watch your mouth, son,” John yelled. He jerked as if he'd done something wrong, then turned to look at the girl.

Sam winced, knowing that anyone would have stirred at their outbursts, drunken slut or not. The girl remained unmoving. Dean took a step forward when John reached out to put his hand on the girl's shoulder.

He barely laid his hand on her when he knew that she was gone and jerked it back. He looked to Sam and then launched himself at Dean. “How could you do this?” Sam heard the crunch of bone as John's fist made contact with Dean's face.

“Dad!” Sam yelled from the other side of the room.

“You fucking killed her! Sammy's here!” Punch after punch landed on Dean's bloody swollen face as John pummeled him.

Dean wasn't even trying to fight back, and Sam couldn't take anymore. He dug through his father's army duffel and pulled out his own handgun. It had been his birthday gift that year, but John didn't trust him to keep it himself. The metal was cold in his hand, and the white marble handle shone in the little sunlight that was streaming in through the tacky motel curtain. With practiced hands he checked the cartridge, cocked the barrel, and took aim.

“Stop!” His voice was steady, and he had thankfully not cracked when he said it; his voice still in the process of maturing.

John stopped mid-swing, turning his head to see the gun aimed at him, and let go of Dean. Sam spared a quick glance as he watched his brother slump to the ground, spitting blood from his busted-open lips.

John turned slowly with his palms up, facing Sam. “Now, Sammy.”

“Don't placate me!” Sam's voice was full of rage, but his hands were steady and his aim was true.

“Just think about what your doing, son.”

Dean groaned from his place on the floor as he tried to crawl away. Sam had never seen his big brother afraid of anything in his life. That alone was enough to set Sam's resolve.

“We're in a small room in a crowded motel. Even if you did shoot me, where could you go? What would you do?”

“Sa-my” Dean coughed, his eyes were pleading, probably for him to not shoot.

Sam kept his eyes on his father and the gun aimed while he reached over and grabbed the pillow out from under the slut's head. He doubled it over and held it in front of the gun. “We're gonna salt and burn your bones.”

Then, just as John lurched forward, Sam squeezed the trigger, just like his late father had taught him.

Part 2

Please reblog if you liked it! Feel free to ASK for anything else you may like to read or if you would like to be added to my tag list!

All the tags:

@amanda-teaches @waywardbaby @impala-dreamer @ericaprice2008 @whimsicalrobots @evansrogerskitten @chloeaacole @mcchubbin @danica-queen-of-hell @holyfuckloueh @wonderfulwinchestersmut @andkatiethings @dean-winchesters-bacon @mogaruke @super-fan-of-all-things @speakinvain @superlightalternateuniverse88 @kittenofdoomage @myxtina @babypink224221 @just-another-busy-fangirl @81mysteriouslyme @brewsthespirit-blog @curly-haired-disaster @closetspngirl @death-unbecomes-you @mrswhozeewhatsis @phanslittleplayroom

#spnkinkbingo #dark!wincest #spn fanfic #weecest #sociopath!sam #serial killer!dean #murder husbands #jelly fish fic #this will be a short series #spnfanficpond #cleighwrites

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babybluebanshee · 5 years

Text

Cold and Alone - An MHA fic

The first installment in a series of MHA sick fics I’m planning, because sick fics and the ensuing hurt/comfort be my jam.

Tomura started this day just wanting to be alone for a minute. Then he's violently reminded how much being alone hurts.

Tomura knew he needed to start heading back. The day had already been cold enough to chap his already dried-out skin on contact, and the impending night promised only to make it worse.

But the idea of going back to the base right now made his skin crawl, in a way that had nothing to do with how cold it was or how thin his jacket was.

He didn’t know if it was the cold or the gloom of winter or boredom or frustration or some unholy combination of all four, but the others were driving him even further out of his mind than he already was. Every little thing they did - from Himiko humming quietly to herself, to Magne and Spinner talking about who cared what, to Twice carrying on a spirited, muttered conversation with himself while Dabi watched, to Compress practicing idiotic card tricks - just drove him up the wall today.

He needed to breathe. He needed to get out.

He hadn’t planned on being out very long. Just an hour or two. He’d even left his phone back at the base, just to further distance himself from the irritation that would come with Kurogiri ringing him up and pestering him about leaving the base in completely inappropriate winter clothes. Even if he himself was starting to think maybe it would have been a good idea to at least put on some socks before he left, he didn’t want to hear an entire lecture about it from Kurogiri.

A stiff, icy breeze slashed right through his hoodie. Yeah, he definitely should have worn socks. Socks and a bigger coat. And maybe some gloves. His fingers were so cold they were starting to hurt. He shoved them deeper in the hoodie pocket, but it did little good.

It was definitely time to get back home. At least he’d have plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for all the bullshit that was awaiting him.

The sharp winter wind picked up again, nearly blowing back his hood. He tucked his head down to keep it in place, then ducked into an alley. Anything to keep this damn chill out. How people could actually enjoy this time of year was beyond him.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t see the girl in the coat standing with her back to him until well after he’d crashed into her, nearly knocking them both to the ground. He had to fling his hands from his pocket to catch and steady himself. He heard something hard clatter to the ground and realized it was the girl’s phone.

“Whoa,” the girl said cheerily from within the coat’s dark hood. “Where’s the fire, mister?”

Tomura didn’t reply, just grumbled slightly. The urge to reduce her to dust where she stood was strong, but his fingers began to ache now that they were out of the minimal warmth of his hoodie provided. He grumbled again as he shoved them back in his pocket. He didn’t have any more energy to deal with this girl than he did with the others back home.

“Sorry about being a roadblock,” the girl said casually, bending to pick her phone up off the ground. She studied the screen with a puzzled expression on her face, and muttered, “I think I’m lost.” She looked up at him and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the mall from here would you?”

Tomura merely grumbled and tilted his head back to the mouth of the alley, “Try right around that corner.”

The girl laughed. “Are you serious?” she asked. “I’ve been wandering around for ten minutes trying to find it and -”

Tomura was already beginning to elbow his way past her.

“Hey, wait,” the girl said. He heard her footsteps start up behind him. “I really feel like I owe you one. Can I get you a coffee or something? You look like you could use it.”

“Get the hell away from me,” he said bluntly. He didn’t stop walking.

Neither did she. In fact, from the sound of it, she was practically on top of him. Before he could turn around to growl some kind of threat, he felt a hand ghost lightly against the back of his neck.

The world around him was suddenly dark.

“Really, I must insist,” the girl’s voice murmured in his ear, low and far away and decidedly much less casual and cheerful than before.

Tomura no longer felt the cold biting at him through his hoodie, nor did he feel the harsh wind slice across his cheeks. He heard nothing - not the shriek of the wind around him, not the sounds of cars and people on the street. Even taking in a shaky breath felt like filling his lungs with emptiness. It made his heart skip a beat.

This was nothing. He was in an unfeeling void, just blackness surrounding him on all sides.

What was she doing to him?

He wanted to ask, speak the words out loud, to fill this awful, oppressive silence just as much as to actually know. It had to be some kind of quirk, but he couldn’t force his brain to think about it. Unease was slowly overtaking him, nestling in the pit of his stomach and blossoming forth, to his fingers and toes and to the backs of his eyeballs. It was so strong it almost hurt.

Then the unease exploded into full-fledged fear.

It was unlike any fear he’d ever felt. Outside of this black void-

Was there anything outside this black void? He felt as if he’d been here forever...no, it’s only been a few seconds FOCUS GODDAMMIT

Outside of this black void, when he’s faced with fear like this, he usually fights, flinging out his arms and squeezing his hands against that which would do him harm. Rot it away. Save himself. Teach whoever had tried to hurt him what happened if they were careless enough to let him know that’s what they were trying to do.

Now, all urge to fight and survive was gone. This fear was blind, constricting, as oppressive as the inky blackness that seemed to be edging in on him. He couldn’t move. All he found he could do was listen to his heart beat harder and faster.

Then, from the darkness surrounding him, images began to flash. The shapes were somehow familiar, flickering in and out of his vision like a dying heartbeat. Then they formed more fully, and he began to recognize pieces of them. He saw white-blond hair, tied in ribbons. Burnt, rotten flesh. A shock of purple hair. A pair of dark sunglasses. A costume of blue and white stripes. A black and white oval mask. A dapper waistcoat shrouded in black mist.

The images flashed before him again, more clearly than before. The others, his comrades. His friends. Why were they here?

The image was before him again, this time clear as crystal.

They were all dead.

He could see piles of dust scattered about staring bodies. They all had pieces missing - Himiko a leg, Compress an arm, Spinner half his face.

Tomura felt bile rise in his throat. He was going to be sick.

It was all happening again.

He’d killed them. Just like before.

That was all he’d ever be able to do. Create some illusion of family and then destroy it all with one touch of his hand. His eyes stung. The bile was inching further up his throat.

It was all going to happen again and it would all be his fault.

Something struck him hard in the side. The visions of death in front of him were momentarily washed out by white light, and then he was back in the real world. The cold once again leached into his bones through his thin hoodie. The sounds of life erupted to full volume around him. The darkness was gone. He would have been grateful for it if the return to sensation hadn’t brought with it crippling pain.

The sensation of someone holding on to his neck was removed gently, and he fell, like a puppet with cut strings. He hit the concrete ground hard, and that sent another jolt of agony up his side. It was white hot and angry, like some horrible mix of broken glass and a gunshot.

“Nothing, hm?” he heard a woman ask. That couldn’t have been the same girl from before. She sounded completely different.

Something metallic hit the pavement, close to his head. He winced at the sound. Another voice, harsh, tense, masculine, said, “Not a damn thing. Freak doesn’t even have a wallet.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Look at him. He looks homeless.”

“Tell me you at least saw something good in his head.”

“Oh yes,” the woman replied. Tomura heard the smile in her voice, and the feeling of wanting to vomit curled back into his throat. “So much fear. You should have heard his heartbeat. It was like the fluttering of a baby bird. So beautiful.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us got something out of this,” the man grumbled. Suddenly, there was a boot being pressed dully into Tomura’s side, and he wanted to scream out in agony, but it felt as if his breath was being stolen from his lungs. He merely let out a strangled cry, more tears stinging and threatening to fall.

The man above him chuckled at the pathetic noise. Tomura wanted to reach out and disintegrate the boot and the neanderthal attached to it. But his brain was fogged with pain.

“Might as well do the world a favor and help cut decrease that vagrancy problem,” the man said. Tomura felt two calloused hands grab his wrists. He tried to grab onto the man in some way, but then the man started to pull, and another shot of pain made it impossible to concentrate. His brain only made the connection that he was being dragged somewhere.

The fear was back, and that fighting instinct tried to claw its way to the surface, but the pain dulled everything. Bogged down his thoughts. It was as if he was experiencing the world in slow-motion.

He’d never thought he’d feel this helpless again, and it was more terrifying to him than anything.

Suddenly, the grip was gone, and his back made contact with a few dented trash cans, causing him to land on his injured side. He tried to arch his back and move, away from the cans pressing into his side, away from the hard, cold ground making everything worse, just away from the pain in general that he was sure was going to kill him in a few minutes.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Tomura heard the man say to him through the haze of agony.

Tomura heard them starting to walk away, as leisurely as if they’d just finished a casual conversation with a mutual acquaintance.

“It’s not like anyone will come looking for him,” he heard the woman say. “From what I saw in there, no one would care if he disappeared.”

With those words, Tomura felt the desperate panic drip away. He briefly closed his eyes, and the images from the black void she’d created flashed before him again. His comrades, reduced to dust. Obviously his fault. Again.

He felt something cold land on his cheek, soft and light as a kiss. He opened his eyes, rolled them up and looked to the sky. It was snowing.

He let his eyes drift closed again, and felt his muscles relax. Even the fiery pain in his side seemed to be dulled a little. He was too exhausted to hurt.

He would just go to sleep, right here. The woman was right. It’s not like anyone would care.

-----------------------

Kurogiri paced. It was all he could think to do. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

Four hours. Tomura had been gone for four hours, and no one had heard anything from him in that time. Kurogiri had already tried to call him, only to discover the young fool’s phone sitting off to the side on a crate. That was when Compress and Twice had offered to go find Shigaraki and bring him back, if only, as Twice had so eloquently put it, “to get the stick out of your misty ass”.

He was going to tear into the boy for this when Compress and Twice brought him back. He would tell him he was an idiot for thinking leaving his phone was a good idea. He behaved abhorrently by staying gone for so long when he knew how dangerous it was to be out in the first place. He was a reckless child for thinking that it was wise to go out in the middle of winter in the clothes he’d been in. Did he want to catch his death?

Yes, he would do all that, once the boy was brought back, safe and intact. He knew that Tomura would tell him he was too protective, worried too much, that he wasn’t a child and could take care of himself.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had the conversation. Kurogiri knew all the steps, and was willing to go through them as many times as it took to finally get the message through that boy’s stubborn head.

But the righteous indignation came after the worry. And the worry didn’t stop until Tomura was home.

His phone began to buzz in his waistcoat pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

“Compress?” Kurogiri didn’t even bother with a greeting.

“We found him. We’re uptown, near the mall.” The tone was harried, bordering on panic. Kurogiri felt his stomach fall to his shoes. “We need a warp back. Now.”

Kurogiri didn’t respond. He simply hung up the phone and opened the gate. Compress practically jumped through first, his obnoxious orange coat missing. As Twice followed quickly after him, Kurogiri saw why - in Twice’s arms was a bright orange bundle, a tuft of pale blue hair sticking out of the top.

Tomura.

“He’s freezing,” Compress said briskly.

Magne and Spinner needed no more command than that. Both took off to separate corners, Magne to get the two space heaters shoved off to the side, Spinner over to their sleeping area to gather up as many blankets as he could carry.

Kurogiri didn’t miss the way Toga merely stood off to the side, looking out of place and uncharacteristically small. Even Dabi, standing at her side, looked slightly concerned.

Kurogiri would worry about that momentarily. First, he needed answers.

Twice carried Tomura over to where Magne and Spinner were beginning to construct something akin to a nest, piled high with blankets, as close to the space heaters as they could get them without the risk of starting a fire. Kurogiri came to Compress’s side and asked quietly, “What happened?”

“Looks like someone jumped him,” Compress replied. The disgust was thinly-veiled. “We were about to give up when we saw him lying in an alley. He looked like he’d been there for a while. There was a fresh dusting of snow on him. We had to leave his jacket behind because it was sopping wet and would have just made his hypothermia worse.”

Kurogiri made a noise that sounded like a low growl in the back of his throat, but didn’t reply.

Compress continued, “He wouldn’t respond at all at first. Completely out. It was only when we turned him over to check his pulse that he made any kind of noise, and that was in pain.”

Kurogiri turned his head sharply towards Compress. His look alone demanded explanation.

“He’s got a few cracked ribs,” Compress said. “It’s hard to tell how many exactly, but I felt at least two, and cracked is a gentle estimate. From the way he cried out, they might be broken. What do you think? Rival villains?”

“Nothing so dramatic,” Kurogiri replied, fighting to keep his tone even. “A rival wouldn’t have left him alive at all. This was sloppy. I would say they were trying to mug him. There were probably at least two, and as long as they managed to avoid his hands, it wouldn’t have been hard to incapacitate him by himself.”

“And when they realized he didn’t have anything on him, they left him in an alley to freeze,” Compress added. Unlike Kurogiri, he sounded ready to snap.

“At least you found him in time,” Kurogiri said, surprised to find the words coming out in a much gentler tone of voice. The soothing sentiment felt odd coming from him. He’d never, in all his years, have ever suspected that he’d be trying to comfort anyone, in any capacity. How things had changed this year.

“That oughta do it,” Spinner said from the corner where they’d created their nest. He smoothed out one of the blankets with his foot as he stepped out of the way for Twice and Magne to step forward.

Magne reached out her arms to help Twice lower Tomura into the pile. “Okay, go slowly,” she said, touching the orange bundle softly, as if she were handling a precious piece of crystal.

“I believe,” Kurogiri added, “that, when Tomura Shigaraki is well again, a call to Giran might be in order. See if we can’t repay whoever did this in kind.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Compress hissed.

Just as Magne and Twice nearly had Tomura flat on the floor, a weak cry of pain escaped his lips. Everyone jumped a little at the sudden noise, and for a split second, none of them moved.

When another whimper came from the bundle, Kurogiri and Compress finally moved forward. Magne and Twice had gotten Tomura on the floor, and began slowly peeling back the protective layer of Compress’s coat. As soon as Tomura’s rail-thin body came into view, Twice started pulling the blankets they’d gathered up around him, bundling him as tightly as he could without jostling his ribs. Such a task was obviously easier said than done, as now that he was at least semi-conscious, Tomura seemed to have become all too aware of the broken bones pressing down against his lungs. Every breath he took was sharp and shallow, full of fear that the next one would bring another blinding bolt of pain. The shivering that now racked the boy’s body seemed not to be helping in the slightest. He simply curled in on himself, his limbs looking at stiff as a newborn foal.

Much to his own shock, the sight pained Kurogiri. As much as he’d begrudged his position as Tomura’s handler when this was all first arranged by All for One, how irritated he’d been at the prospect of playing nursemaid to this overgrown, incorrigible child, this feeling now, this pain at seeing Tomura brought so low, obviously having been brutalized for a reason as paltry as money, it made him feel...protective. Perhaps even paternal was the word to use.

He didn’t have time to dwell on these feelings for much longer though. Tomura let out another gasp of pain, this one sounding strangled and raw, as he jerked away from the beings he believed to be causing him his suffering. His eyes were open in slits now, unfocused and dazed and not showing a hint of recognition for anyone around him. Kurogiri had read about the effects of hypothermia. In later stages, it caused disorientation. They needed to warm him up faster.

Fortunately, he’d also read about an effective way of warming a suffering person up.

“Stand aside, please,” Kurogiri said to Magne and Spinner. They didn’t argue, but did give him a quizzical look as he moved closer to Tomura, until he was at his side. He peeled away the large comforter that had been draped over the boy’s shoulders, doing his best not to feel awful at the yelp of discomfort he gave. Kurogiri slung the blanket around his own shoulders like a quilted cape, then sat himself on the floor, directly behind Tomura. Then he brought the comforter around Tomura again, until only his head was sticking out the top. He gently leaned the boy back, until his back was flush against Kurogiri’s chest. It was like pressing a slab of ice directly against his body, and he had to fight to not pull himself away.

Tomura whimpered again, and Kurogiri curled his arm up at the boy’s side, as if attempting to soothe the pain away until his misty hand. “It’s alright,” he heard himself say. “You’re home. You’re safe.”

The others stared down at the spectacle in astonishment. Kurogiri could hardly blame them. To anyone else, this would have seemed incredibly ridiculous.

Which is why he was quite shocked himself when Toga broke from the group, grabbing up a blanket herself, and curling up on Tomura’s legs, like a contented cat. She wrapped the blanket around herself, being sure to get Tomura’s feet under it as well. Kurogiri heard her make a contented noise as she burrowed her face into Tumora’s skeletal leg.

The others picked up her cue quickly. Compress pulled his coat around his shoulders and came to Kurogiri’s left, managing to curl up to Tomura’s injured side, and offered his own arm against the broken ribs. Magne took to Kurogiri’s left with a large sheet, sitting in such a way that it was quite easy for her to run a caressing hand through Tomura’s hair. Spinner and Twice split another large down comforter, taking the space on the other side of Tomura’s legs. Spinner didn’t even complain when Twice started to spoon him slightly.

Finally, Dabi let out a small sigh, and took a spot next to Toga. He didn’t bother to grab a blanket, just laying languidly on his back. He muttered, “I’m basically a big space heater. The little idiot will be fine.”

They were certainly a sight to behold. Kurogiri would have laughed if this massive puddle of body heat didn’t actually seem to be doing the trick. Tomura’s shivering increased, but Kurogiri knew that was a good sign. It meant the boy’s body sensed heat, and was trying to warm itself back up.

It wasn’t long before the warmth started getting to everyone else as well. One by one, the team of villains, wanted for their many crimes and murders and evil deeds, began to drift off to sleep.

Twice and Spinner were out first, now fully cuddling under their comforter. Compress was next, his hat pulled down over his face, snoring lightly. Magne’s deeper snoring followed shortly after. Toga let out a squeaky, kitten-like yawn before finally shutting her eyes. Kurogiri didn’t notice when Dabi fell asleep. He just happened to look in his direction and he was out.

Kurogiri chanced one more looked down at Tomura. He still shivered, but nowhere near as hard as before. Not that anyone would have been able to tell, but Kurogiri smiled a bit.

He supposed it wouldn’t if he rested his eyes for a moment as well.

This whole affair was utterly ridiculous.

And as he drifted off, Kurogiri realized he didn’t want it any other way.

--------------------

Something was pressed up against his back. And his sides. And on his legs.

He almost would have been drawn back into that paralyzing fear if he weren’t so exhausted. Every muscle in his body felt like it was made out of a stone. Even the mere act of opening his eyelids felt positively herculean.

But when he did finally get them open, a wave of unanticipated relief washed over him. On his legs were friends he recognized - Toga, Dabi, Twice, and Spinner - fast asleep and looking like they wouldn’t want to be anywhere but there. Although his neck was too stiff to turn to look to either, he recognized a pair of black and white boots on his left, and a pair of scuffed up brown ones to his right. Compress and Magne. He could only assume that the strong support at his back was Kurogiri.

They were here. They were with him They weren’t dead.

He felt Kurogiri shift behind him. His chest rumbled with his deep bass as he said softly, “You’re awake, Tomura Shigaraki.”

He merely nodded. He would work his way up to speech.

Kurogiri gave his right side a gentle squeeze.

Nothing more was said for a while, the only sounds filling the room the deep breathing and occasional snores of the other sleeping villains.

Finally, Tomura spoke up. His voice was even softer and wavering than usual. “How did I get here?”

“Compress and Twice found you in an alley, and I warped you back” Kurogiri replied softly. “You had been there for quite some time. You were hypothermic and injured. Someone attacked you.”

A pain that had nothing to do with the ache in his side flashed through Tomura. He didn’t want to think about those people in the alley. The ones who’d probed his head and laid him bare, then left him like garbage.

“I know they hurt you,” Kurogiri said, as if he were reading Tomura’s mind. “And you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just tell us what they looked like, and we’ll have Giran and his people looking for them to properly punish them. No one can hurt you and not suffer for it.”

Those words were almost enough to chase the pain inside him away completely, and Tomura sighed silently with relief. He was sure Kurogiri could feel the muscles in his back loosening. He hoped that told the older man how grateful he was to him.

A misty right hand moved down, on top of Tomura’s, and gave it a squeeze.

Kurogiri knew.

“There were two of them, a man and a woman,” Tomura muttered. He closed his eyes again, trying to picture them both. “I didn’t see much of the man. I was only aware he was there after he’d struck me and I was on the ground. He…”

Tomura stopped himself. He was not going to repeat the vile words the man had said. There was no reason to upset Kurogiri.

“I saw a bit of the woman. She was small, unassuming. She was wearing a hood, so all I could see was that she was young. I think she was a kind of bait. To lure people in. She had this quirk…”

He stopped himself again, ready to gloss over it, ready to never, ever bring up what he’d seen in that blackness ever again. Just the thought of it made his heart rate pick up a bit. The familiar sting was back in his eyes.

He didn’t want to cry. Not now. He was too tired to cry. But he was also too tired to hold it in.

“Tomura?”

Hearing just his first name, said so softly and so worriedly, broke him. The tears came, and he didn’t do a damn thing to stop them. The mistly hand on his squeeze harder.

“She had this quirk,” Tomura continued, his already weak voice wavering, “that made me see things. See you. All of you. And I had...hurt you...just like the last time. Just like them.”

Kurogiri didn’t press for further details.

“And I was afraid,” Tomura said. “I was afraid, but I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. Her quirk wouldn’t let me. It just made me freeze up. I was afraid because I’d made it happen again and I was going to be alone…”

The rest of his words were swallowed up by a rattling sob.

He felt Kurogiri’s chin rest against his head. He’d moved his hand from Tomura’s and placed it on his back, rubbing gently in circles. “Hush,” he said soothingly. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again. We’re right here. We won’t leave you. I promise.”

Kurogiri didn’t stop shushing and rubbing his back until Tomura’s tears had finally ceased, and he had leaned back against his chest, more exhausted than ever.

Another comforting silence filled the small space. It made Tomura feel safe in a way all the blankets and space heaters never could.

“Rest now, Tomura Shigaraki,” Kurogiri said. “Your ribs may be broken, and they’ll need time to heal. When the others wake up, I’ll send someone off for some painkillers. That will help them not hurt when you breathe. But for now, just rest.”

Tomura didn’t answer. He merely nodded, nestled his head back against Kurogiri’s chest again, and closed his eyes.

He was safe.

He wasn’t alone.

He would never be alone again.

Kurogiri promised he wouldn’t.

Not even his nightmares could take this away from him.

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phoenixmakeswords · 5 years

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100 Follower Celebration--Part 1

That’s right. Part one. I’m horrible with decisions, so I’m giving y’all more than one thing. To start things off, here’s the first chapter of the dragon shifter thing. Enjoy!

The sound of human voices downstairs both alarms me and reawakens my hunger. I was human once. But now I'm the monster in the dark, the thing that goes bump in the night.

I move silently through the rickety old house that’s become my prison. I want to see these foolish, stupid humans. Don’t they know what this house is? Haven’t they heard the legends of a fairy tale come true? Don’t they know I eat people like them? They’ll see the bones of the others soon enough. The would-be heroes come to slay the vicious dragon. Of course I ate them; I don’t particularly feel like dying.

I stick to the shadows on the second floor. The house is mostly shadows now; they’re where I blend in.

Five human men sit on the battered, dusty red couch in the living room. They’re not armed. Or not that I can see, and I can see quite well.

“It’s an urban legend. Nobody’s ever seen a dragon,” one of them snaps in exasperation. He has a strident voice that grates on my nerves. I might eat him first just so I don’t have to hear his voice again.

“What’re we gonna do if it’s not a legend? Hope it doesn’t eat us?” one of the dark-haired ones retorts. Three of the five have dark hair. I don’t like this one either. I don’t appreciate being called an it. I am a him, thank you very much.

“Ah, but the legend says the dragon was sent here by its mother. Doesn’t it? Because she caught him with another boy. All we have to do is catch the beast.”

I’ve heard enough. I don’t need a reminder of my past. They don’t know the whole story. Nor do they deserve to.

I wasn’t sent here by my mother. She brought me here to protect me. She loved me.

I slink to the top floor. I like it better up here; it’s sunnier. I like sunning myself on the wood floor.

I miss being human sometimes. If I were human, I’d probably be friends with those guys downstairs. I miss being outside in the sunlight; I can only go out at night to hunt so no one sees me. I miss ice cream and not eating raw meat. I was vegetarian before this. The worst part of all of this is not knowing if I can ever be human again.

I stretch out in the sunny spot on the floor. The warm sunlight feels good. I might even go back to sleep.

I think what I miss the most is the boy I fell for when I was still human. I wonder often what happened to him. If he’s happy. If he found some guy who loves him as much as I did. As much as I still do.

He’d run away screaming if he saw me now, I think sadly, resting my chin on one of my forelegs.

Once the sun goes down, I’ll hunt. I don’t want to eat the humans downstairs unless I don’t have an option.

Their voices carry upstairs, though I try to tune them out. Until I hear Aaron’s familiar smoky voice. The sun seems just a little brighter. He’s still alive. He’s here. I can at least see him again, though he won’t know who I am. To him, I’ll just be a monster.

I creep stealthily back downstairs. I just want a glimpse of him.

I flatten myself along the wall where I'm hidden. Where I'm safe.

He’s chatting with the one who called me an it. He doesn’t sound happy.

“Look, just because I don’t know the story, doesn’t mean we have to kill him if he exists. He might not be dangerous! Have you thought of that? He might have been defending himself,” Aaron shouts irritably. His eyes sparkle like Fourth of July fireworks with his anger.

My stomach sinks at his words. They’re planning on killing me. I haven’t done anything to them, but they’ve already decided on my death. Why shouldn’t I decide on theirs? Why should I bother trying to give them a chance and be less of a monster when they’re not going to do the same thing?

I don’t realize I moved away from the wall until I see Aaron’s eyes fix on me. I'm dead. I'm a dead dragon.

I slink back to my lair. I need to plot. The sun’s just started to set when they find the bones in the kitchen. All it does is give them more ammo against me. Make them want my death more.

I’ll bide my time. They’ll attack. And I’ll be eating good for a while. Except for Aaron. I won’t hurt him. I can’t. No matter what he does to me, I’ll die before I hurt him.

I wait until the stars have made an appearance and things are quiet in the house before making my way to the window. It takes more effort on my part than it should to work the window open; I don’t exactly have opposable thumbs right now and the window frame is swollen with rain.

The night air feels good on my face.

I clamber gracefully onto the metal steps. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to spread my wings like this. I don’t hunt often. Probably not as often as I should anyway. It’s been a couple weeks since I last did this.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to flying. I hope I never do. It’s incredibly freeing. The wind in my face. The moonlight on my back. The steady beat of my wings. I love it. It might be the one thing about being a dragon I enjoy.

I stay away from the town when I hunt. Away from the lights. I don’t want to be seen.

It isn’t long before I spot the deer. They’re grazing peacefully in a farmer’s field near New Hebron. They don’t run when they smell me. They should.

I take two of the smaller ones. They’ll keep me from starving for a couple more weeks. I don’t like doing this, but I can’t eat grass. I’ve tried. Tried eating a tree too; all I got for that was a splinter between my teeth.

I’m sorry, I think, nudging the bones away from the road. I know coyotes and other scavengers will come investigate and I don’t want them to be hit by a car.

I have humans in my lair when I get back. A low growl tears from my throat when I see the variety of weapons they bear: Knives; guns; pipes, and a baseball bat. Aaron is the only one unarmed.

“Don’t do this,” he pleads, stepping between his friends and me. “He hasn’t tried to hurt us. Why provoke him?”

“He’s a monster! Just look at him!” Strident Voice retorts, gesturing at me with his free hand. Tail whipping angrily, I huff in response. “Did you miss the bones?”

“Maybe he didn’t mean to. Do we have to hurt him? If we leave him alone, maybe we can coexist.” Aaron, ever the peacemaker. That worked out real well for him when my dad caught us together. Worked out real well for both of us. At least Aaron didn’t turn into a monster.

I stretch my neck out and rest my head lightly on his shoulder. He smells just like I remember: Axe Phoenix, leather, and mint. His heart rate skyrockets at the contact.

“See? He could tear my head off right now but he’s not.”

He makes me feel a tiny bit more human. He’s good at that.

“He’s just waiting for you to let your guard down,” Pipe Dude #1 spits, inching closer.

He swings the pipe at my neck. Snarling, I catch the pipe in my teeth and jerk it from his grasp. I don’t want to hurt him, but I will if he pushes me.

I straighten to my full height, a low growl rumbling in my chest. They should run.

“See? How are we supposed to renovate this stupid house with him here?” Pipe Dude #1 demands.

“Why can’t we? He wasn’t hurting us before. He’s only upset now because you attacked him. Anyone would be.”

The last time Aaron defended me, we had been making out on my bed when my dad walked in on us. He tried to take the fall. He got between us when my dad started screaming at me. I stepped in when my dad punched him. It made things worse for me because how dare I defend my boyfriend. The last time I saw Aaron, his nose was bleeding from my dad’s fist. He hasn’t changed.

Purring, I bump my snout against his head gently. Even if I’m never human again, I want to enjoy this moment.

As much as I want to eat his friends, I won’t because it will hurt him. I can’t hurt him. I’m not that much of a monster. I still slink into the hall to watch them in the morning. It’s becoming my favorite hobby. Except it might get me killed.

I listen to their renovation plans. Apparently, they’re planning on selling it once they get done. Again, my death is brought up. Like it’s the only thing that matters. I don’t want to die.

“We’re not killing him,” Aaron sighs in exasperation.

I think I might love him just a little bit more for that.

“He was supposed to be a freaking myth,” Strident Voice snaps.

“What was the rest of the legend anyway? I haven’t heard it before.”

“So, five years ago, this guy, Leo Something-Or-Other brought a guy home. Things were getting pretty hot and heavy between them when Leo’s parents found out. They weren’t too thrilled about their son being gay. They flipped out and their hatred is what made Leo turn into a dragon.” He sounds skeptical but he’s closer to the truth than I’m comfortable with.

Aaron’s face is unreadable as he rakes a hand through his chestnut curls. I wish I knew what he’s thinking.

“That’s interesting,” Aaron says finally.

#my writing #100 follower celebration #dragon shifter #writeblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt romance

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